Gwatha Trî Lumiath Tainted By Shadows
by Gwathnathron
Summary: No one knows how long Erestor has been part of Imladris, all they know is that the advisor has always been different. Glorfindel decides to find out why and suddenly discovers that nothing less than the fate of Middle Earth is at stake... will have both,
1. Prologue

Prologue

He blinked slowly a few times and labouringly forced his gaze to settle on his lord once more. A shudder ran through him as the cold slowly faded from his limbs. Elrond was still droning on about the contracts necessary for the building of a new bridge across the Bruinen and the discussion seemed to drag on forever. As if they did not have enough bridges in Imladris.

Sighing he glanced at the bored faces of the other councilors, his expression changing to a glare as he noticed the strange look Glorfindel was giving him. He could not have been gone that long.

"…what do you think, Erestor?"

"Well, my Lord…" Erestor stood up, quickly forcing a mask of indifference to his face as he collected himself before giving his opinion on which offer from the local stone mazons was the best in a rather elaborate speech.

He stood on a balcony in the gardens of the Last Homely House, looking out onto one of the many waterfalls of the Bruinen, eagerly taking in the peaceful view in front of him. It was strange how the rumbling of the falling water always seemed to suit his many moods. Sighing he rested his elbows on the stone railing that secured the balcony. Robes rustled behind him.

"What do you want?" he asked softly, his tone betraying no emotion, "You have no reason to disturb my solitude."

"Do you wish for solitude then?" Glorfindel's soft voice asked compassionately.

Erestor cringed. "I always do." He said calmly.

"But it need not be that way, meldir," Glorfindel stepped out onto the balcony and stood next to the black-clad advisor, resting a hand on the dark elf's shoulder, "There are many who would be there for you, if you only let them close."

Ersetor flinched.

"Elrond and I am but two of them. What is troubling you, meldir?"

"Nothing is troubling me." Erestor snapped, stepping away from Glorfindel, "I would ask you to kindly leave me now."  
For some seconds Glorfindel stared at the other's cold, emotionless eyes and then nodded, shivering as he retreated. He worried about the dark-haired councilor, he always had, but he could not say why.

Somehow Erestor managed to control his trembling till Glorfindel was out of sight but as soon as the blond was gone, wild tremors rocked his body. Today had been a close call. He had felt the cold.

"Duathion…" he whispered, wrapping his arms around his waist as he slowly walked back to his room. "Duathion…" His mind was so caught in times long past that he did not notice Glorfindel lurking nearby, watching his every step with worried blue eyes.

"But it need be this way," Erestor whispered shakily as he entered the safety of his rooms, carefully locking the door behind him, "And it may never change."

With a few uneven steps the raven-haired elf crossed the room and drew the black curtains shut. It was already late and he did not want Ithil to illuminate his chamber.

At times like these he could not bear its soft glow. He froze with his hands still on the the curtain, head bent so that his hair blocked everything but the dark fabric from his view.

Even after so many millenia he could not let go of the darkness. A darkness that had always distanced him from others.

Sighing Erestor turned and climbed into bed, at once curling up into a foetal position. He knew he would not sleep well tonight. All he could do was try to keep the worst of the shadow at bay.

_He shuddered as the cold embraced him again. Everything around him was black. He knew that he was asleep but his mind felt wide awake and alert and he knew that whatever would follow would be more than a simple dream. And that he had no chance of preventing it._

_He moaned, trashing around in his sleep as he dreamt of someone calling out to him. He felt that this someone was in grave danger and that he would be able to help but he could not make out who was calling for help. He knew that is was an elf, an elf he did not know but knew of and as the stranger's pleas for help filled his ears with a suffocating roar the blackness suddenly vanished and he saw a landscape instead. _

_A black landscape, a black castle with a high tower nestled against a black mountain range and a single, fire-spitting mountain not far from it. He knew it only too well. He seemed to fly down, past the mountain where the ring had been destroyed and into the burned ruins of Barad Dûr. Ruins that should have been empty for almost a decade now. _

_Orcs were running around the place, snarling and yelling at each other as they cleared the halls of Barad Dûr from debris and stones, some of them even erecting a throne in what was once the great hall. Erestor shivered as his feet suddenly touched the ground and he stood among the shuffling orcs, alone, vulnerable. They did not notice him though. _

_All of a sudden a figure stood on the steps in front of the newly erected black throne, with its back turned to the advisor. Erestor shivered, feeling millenia of memories crushing onto him as the figure turned around and red eyes drilled into his, angrily tearing to the very core of his being. He knew these eyes._

"Erestor! Erestor!" A voice was calling him and he sat up, trying to fight off his attacker but found himself held down once more. "Erestor?" another voice this time.

"It will drown," Erestor whispered, "Mirkwood will drown…"

Someone slapped him and he opened his eyes, staring at Elrond and Glorfindel, his whole body shivering violently with cold sweat. Slowly the raven-haired advisor shook his head. "Why are you here?" he croaked finally.

Elrond merely raised an eyebrow.

"I heard you scream," Glorfindel explained, carefully letting go of Erestor's wrists and sitting down on the bed, "I was on my way to my chamber when I passed your door and upon hearing your screams tried to wake you. When I failed, I called Elrond."

"Thank you… for waking me," Erestor whispered weakly, gathering the blanket around him, "But I would prefer to be alone now."

"But you can't just…" Glorfindel started but was at once silenced by Elrond.

"I am sure your concern is quite appreciated, meldir," the elf-lord said with a pointed glance at Erestor, "But I'd rather you'd give me some time with my chief advisor now."

"Of course, my lord." Glorfindel got up and indicate a bow, knowing that it was impossible to contradict Elrond when the peredhil was in this mood. He looked at the shivering elf in the bed once more and then pulled the door shut behind him, intent on finding out about the reasons for Erestor's nightmare in the morning.

Erestor relaxed visibly as soon as Glorfindel had left his rooms. Elrond could be difficult but not as stubborn as Glorfindel. "I am alright," he said, knowing that his voice was anything but convinving.

"So I see," Elrond retorted dryly. "Since when have you had these nightmares?"

"'Twas only tonight that…"

"Do not lie to me Erestor!" Elrond's voice was more than sharp, "I have known you since I came to serve under Gil-Galad and I know you well enough to tell when you are lying."

"For quite some nights now," Erestor mumbled, "But I can't think what triggered them." he added, hoping that Elrond would not detect the half-lie.

"I could give you a sleeping potion…." Elrond said finally, after staring intently at Erestor.

"No, thank you my lord, I will be better off without."

"Just one more thing," Elrond said with a sigh.

"Yes my lord?"

"When you woke you said that Mirkwood would drown… what did you mean by that?"

"I do not know my lord."

"Tell me Erestor… have you ever had some sort of… visions or precognition of the future."

"No."

"Very well, I will leave you to your rest then. You will not appear for work the next three days. And no," Elrond continued as he saw Erestor's look, "I will not be moved on the subject. You are to stay away from any work till you are rested enough to do it properly, understood?"

"Yes my lord."

Erestor got up as soon as Elrond had left the room and quickly washed himself in the adjoining bathroom that was part of his chambers. Even the water could not take away the chill he felt. Wrapping himself tightly into a blanket he opened the curtains and stepped onto his balcony. Ithil stood high in the sky, shining upon Arda in a peaceful silvery light. Sighing he sat down, gazing at the waves of the Bruinen, which were softly lapping against the banks of the river. On nights like these he could hear the waves sing, hear them sing of the sea far, far away and the silver shores that lay beyond. Elrond and his household would travel there after Arwen's death but he would not go with them. The shadow was still too strong. He just had to find a way of telling Elrond.

Still shivering he rested his back against the wall, preparing to spend the rest of the night awake. If he had the next few days off anyway, it would be better to sleep in the daylight hours. Maybe the dreams would not trouble him then

Elvish Translations:

Arda Middle Earth

Duathion Son of the Shadow, Shadowson

Gwatha trî lumiath Tainted by Shadows

Ithil Moon

Meldir my friend

Peredhil half-elf


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Author's Notes: italics indicate a flashback, dream or memory

Erestor stiffled a yawn and stretched his legs. It had been a long night and the warmth of the summer breeze had made it difficult but he had managed to stay awake. Anor was rising in the east, a pale patch of golden light that threw long shadows across the valley and Imladris was slowly waking up. Normally he would have rejoiced in the beginning of a new day but he had nothing to do except trying to catch up on some sleep and that was not exactly something he was looking forward to.

He had barely slept these last few weeks. Whenever he closed his eyes strange images and dreams assaulted him. Dreams he did not understand. He saw his parents, his friends and reletives and the other elves that had been living in their village but somehow he sensed that these elves were not what they used to be any more. Whenever he saw his parents in his dreams they looked at him with hatred and loathing. He was afraid of dreaming, afraid of going to sleep.

_He wrapped his arms around his knees and huddled into the corner of his dark cell as he heard footsteps on the corridor. He knew what would happen if they came for him. He had seen the others when they were brought back but that seemed to have been an eternity ago and the other cells were empty now. Today the footsteps stopped in front of his cell._

_He looked up, his brown eyes wary and frightened, and finally his gaze came to rest on a tall elf with a very pale complexion, smouldering black eyes and midnight black hair. The elf would have been beautiful if it had not been for the cold and haughty expression in his eyes. Erestor shuddered, blinded by the light of the single gem that adorned his captor's iron crown. He knew that this was the beginning of the end._

"I swear, I will get Elrond if you don't… Erestor!" Glorfindel breathed a sigh of relied, "Thank the Valar! I did not know what to do!"

Confused Erestor stared at the worried blond elf in front of him. Why had he not heard the seneschal enter?

"Erestor?" Glorfindel tried again, kneeling down in front of the councilor and shaking him by the shoulders, "Erestor are you even listening to me?"

Slowly Erestor shook his head. "No," he managed.

"You are awake again." Glorfindel smiled nervously, "Elrond ordered me to bring you breakfast and I found you out here, starin straight ahead without noticiing anything or anyone. I tried to talk to you but you didn't respond and…" Glorfindel shook his head, "Forgive, you are obviously tired and I wearing you down, let's get you inside."

Carefully he helped the raven-haired advisor to his feet, steadying him as Erestor swayed on his feet. The blond frowned as he saw that Erestor wore nothing but a leggings under the blanket. Sighing he wrapped Erestor into the blankter and led Erestor inside, happily chatting on about a lot of small nonsense. He did not want the advisor to know how worried he was. Erestor did not answer any of his questions and his hands were cold. Glorfindel knew that Erestor was no peredhil, so that left him with only one possibility. A possibility he did not wish to think about.

Erestor blinked slowly a few times, surprised that someone was actually taking care of him. He was inside again, sitting on his bed and Glorfindel was running agitatedly through the room, waving at him with a piece of bread and rambling on non-stop.

"Glorfindel?" Erestor frowned, "Why are you in my quarters again? I cannot remember inviting you in…."

"So you finally decided to grace me with an answer after all," Glorfindel smiled but Erestor noticed that there was something odd about the way the blond teased him, "I already told you, remember? Elrond? Breakfast?"

Erestor's frown deepened, till he noticed the tray with bread and fresh fruit on the nightstand.

"I thank you for your thoughtfulness, seneschal," Erestor inclined his head, addressing Glorfindel as formally as possible, "You may leave now."

The determined set of Glorfindel's jaw, however, told him that he would not succeed in getting rid of the elda that easily. He sighed.

"I really appreciate your concern, Glorfindel," he tried again, "But I would like to be alone now."

Glorfindel remained where he was, crossing his arms in front of his chest and staring grimly at Erestor.

"I will not leave," the blond stated through clenched teeth, "It is obvious that you should not be left alone in your state."  
"And just what would my state be?" Erestor sneered, hoping to finally get rid of Glorfindel.

"Why don't you tell me?"

"Because there is nothing to tell senechal. I am, however, honoured that you are prepared to neglect your duties as Imladris' captain just to harass me."  
Glorfindel's eyes narrowed dangerously and for a few seconds he just stared at Erestor, a frown deeply etched onto his face.

"That," he said finally,his voice as cold as ice, "Was below you, councilor."

Erestor watched almost disappointedly as Glorfindel spun around and marched out of the room, slammning the door shut behind him.

He blinked again, forcing his gaze to leave the door. Staring after Glorfindel was definetely not an option. Sighing he regarded the bread and fruits Glorfindel had brought him with a disgusted glare. He had no appetite. Slowly he got up and switched into his usual black robes, leaving his hair unbraided as always as he prepared himself for the day.

"My lord Erestor?"

"Yes, Collmir?" Erestor replied, without looking up from the correspondence he was reading.

"Lord Glorfindel asked me to bring you these."

"Thank you," Erestor took the reports from the young guard's hands, his attention still focused on Thranduil's letter.

"What is it Collmir?" Erestor grew irritated as the guard remained where he was, nervously shuffling his feet, "Do you have nothing else to do?"

Collmir cringed, finding himself at the receiving end of Erestor's impatient glare.

"Lord Glorfindel also told me to bring your attention to the fact that it is already past midday."

Erestor raised an eyebrow, his expression one of utter disinterest.

"Acknowledged," he stated, "Now would you please leave me to my work?"

Collmir's mouth opened but slowly closed after a few seconds. "Yes, my lord councilor." The blond murmured demurely and silently left, shaking his head.

Erestor pinched the bridge of his nose and quickly scanned Glorfindel's reports. He sighed again. More and more orc-sigthings all over Imladris' borders. And not only in Imladris. Thranduil's letter seemed to be no more than a polite inquiry at first glance but Erestor sensed that the Mirkwood king was fushing for information without giving away what he knew. He would have to tell Elrond about this.

Frowning he read Glorfindel's report carefully. Most elves had sailed after Sauron had been defeated and the numbers of the guards were uncomfortably low, which made these renewed orc activities all the more dangerous. The orcs and uruk-hai that had survived their master's fall had been hunted down all over Arda but some of them had survived. Some, but never enough to seriously threaten Mirkwood, Lothlorie or Imladris. And surely not all of them. Still, something was wrong in Mirkwood. Relations with the woodland realm had improved after Legolas' success with the fellowship but Thranduil never wrote without reason. And this letter seemed to have no reason at all.

The door to the library fell shut with a thunderous slam. Frowning he looked up, supressing a sigh as he encountered blazing blue eyes.

"Captain Glorfindel," he tried his best to return the blond's murderous glare, "And pray tell me, what caused you to venture in here?"

"You did, "growled the elda, "You are obviously incapable of taking care of yourself."

"Even if that were so," Erestor got up, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "It would be no concern of yours."  
"I have decided to make it my concern." Glorfindel looked around, scorn evident in his gaze, "It cannot be healthy to hole oneself up in the library each and every day."

"This library happens to be where I work." Erestor pointed out.

"Why did you think I let Collmir tell you that it was past midday?"

"Why should I care?"

"Because I know that you did not eat the breakfast I brought you."

For a moment Erestor was at a loss for words. "How?"

"The cook told me."

Erestor filed that piece of information away, making a mental note to talk to the cook later. "I am not hungry," he said turning and sitting down on his heavy oak desk once more, "If that was your only reason for coming, please leave and don't distract me any further."

Glorfindel stared at the dar-haired elf at the desk, unable to believe what he had heard. Erestor's behaviour became more and more puzzling every day. "Very well," the blond said slowly, "If I leave you to whatever you were doing right now," he paused, "Will you have dinner with me then?"

Large, chocolate brown eyes stared at him in surprise. "And pray tell me, why should I?"

Glorfindel grinned. "Because you wouldn't want me to tell Elrond that you probably haven't eaten for days, would you?"

Erestor mumbled something unintelligible, transferring his gaze to the papers on is desk once more.

"I will take that as a yes, councilor." Glorfindel could not help feeling smug. "I shall meet you in the great hall after Anor has set."

Erestor glanced quickly at the heavily ornamented gingerbread clock on the edge of his desk and released an impatient sigh. He had approximately 5 hours before he had to meet Glorfindel and that was barely enough for what he had just decided to do. He had to find out what was amiss in Mirkwood and there was only one way of doing it.

Elvish Translations:

Anor Sun

Arda Middle Earth

Meldir my friend

Peredhil half-elf


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He got up, quickly crossing the room to lock the library door. Luckily he was alone in the room. Usually Elrond and he spent the afternoon working together in the library but the half-elf had decided to spend his day in his study. A fact which suited Erestor more than well.

He walked around the room, carefully closing all the curtains on the windows, making sure that there was absolutely no possibility of someone seeing him. He would not be able to go through with his plan if someone disturbed him.

Satisfied with his precautions he went to the fireplace in the northern wall of the library and sat down cross-legged on the boar skin in front of it, resting his elbows on his thighs. He had only one chance today. Concentrating on breathing slowly and evenly he released his mind, concentrating on someone who should have died long ago. Only seconds later his mind left his body and his consciousness travelled to the far away place he had seen so aften in his dreams.

He gathered his black cloak about him, shivering as a cold draught of wind travelled through the halls. He hated it. Shivering was a weakness of mortals. Grinning maniacally he continued his way into one of the many corridors of the castle, descending a winding staircase till he finally reached the dungeons, the most important place of the whole building.

He needed a good dungeon for his plans. A dungeon, from which there would be no escape. The sight of the working orcs lifted his spirits immensely. Sauron had been a complete fool in his opinion but at least the dark lord had been intelligent enough to keep Melkor's orcs on. But that was about the only thing he had done right.

And with a little bit of luck, no one would be able to stop him once he really set his plan into motion. The grin on his dark face broadened. He had long ago learned that luck usually favoured the industrious. And he had always been industrious.

He stopped, frowning as he sensed another presence in the room, and an elven presence no less. He laughed out loud, baffling the orcs with his sudden mirth. There was only one elf on Arda who would dare to project his mind to a place where he was. An elf which he had not spoken to for millenia. He concentrated on the presence, reaching out to his foolish visitor

with his mind.

"Silly elf," a well-known voice behind him huffed, "Are you once again lost in the crystals?"  
"Gimli," Legolas grinned, "You know full well which effect the Glittering Caves have on me. I never thought that there would be so much beauty underground."  
"Right. After all it's only our third visit to the caves. How should you know what they look like by now? Honestly," the dwarf rolled his eyes, leaning onto his walking axe as he stared up at his friend, "You elves must be weak of memory."

Legolas' laughter echoed lightly in the vast caves. "Have it your way, master dwarf." He shrugged, a fluid movement of simple elegance, "But these gems are even more beautiful than precious."

"The fact that we turned these caves into a home might have something to do with it, master elf."

"Aye, my friend, it might. If one considers the fact that a group of dwarfs has been living here the place looks still quite good."

Gimly grinned, shaking his head as Legolas returned to staring at the gems and crystals. The dwarfs had been careful not to damage the precious stones when they had built their home here. Now, ten years after Gimli had decided to lead a group of dwarfs, which were willing to settle in the Glittering Caves, the great hall of teir mine had finally been finished; a vast room with a corridor of high pillars in the middle, from where reliefs spread all over the roof, circling and flowing around the crystals with which nature had graced the caves.

"If you're done with staring at the roof," Gimli interrupted Legolas' enrapture, "Maybe you could tell me what caused you to finally visit a friend you seemed to have forgotten."

"Forgotten?" Leoglas glared at Gimli, feigning indignance, "I wrote you a letter almost every year!"

"A letter! Hah!" Gimli turned, leading the blond elf to one of the tables in one of the corners of the great hall, "A letter! A letter is nothing! We drawrfs believe in doing things in person! Letters…" he mumbled, patiently waiting for Legolas to follow him.

"If you had read my last letter you would know why I have come." Legolas sat down on one of the long benches, one leg on each side of the wooden beam, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the table next to him.

"Since I have not read your last letter you will have to tell me." Gimli sat down, too, grabbing a pint of malt beer.

"Not read my last one? Does that mean you read the other ones?"

"Even if I did," Gimli wiped the foam from his beard, "I have no reason to read your last one, since you're here now."

"Very well," the elf grinned, knowing full well that Gimli would never admit that he might have liked receiving regular letters, "I am on my way to Minas Tirith and wanted to ask you to accompany me."

"The Glittering Caves aren't exactly on the road between Mirkwood and Minas Tirith." Gimli pointed out.

"Really? My Adar always said I had a dwarven way of reading maps. It'll be ten years since Sauron's fall and Aragorn's coronation soon. Will you come with me?"

"Come with you and spend two weeks laughing at an elf trying to camp by the road? I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

_He concentrated on keeping his breathing even as his mind finally reached the castle. Silently he swept down, passing orcs as he ventured into the halls. He sensed a presence in the castle which he knew only too well. A presence that drew him towards the dungeons. _

_Petrified Erestor watched as orcs carried heavy iron bars around, melting them into the rock with the help of fire drakes, thus creating new cells. Barad-Dûr was really being rebuild. He gasped as the black-cloaked figure whose presence had drawn him near suddenly reached out to his mind._

"_Duathion…." A cruel, laughing voice echoed in his head, "I knew we would see each other again…" _

_Erestor groaned, pain rushing at him as the creature laughed, red eyes glittering in the dark of the dungeons._ _"You are dead," he whispered weakly, trying to free himself from the dark elf's mental grasp, "You are dead and you will never return…"_

_Pain spiralled through Erestor once more as the black-clad elf laughed out loud._

"_I am quite alive Duathion," Barak whispered, "And fear not, I will find you…I promise."_

"No!" Erestor pulled himself free, almost collapsing onto the floor as his mind returned to his violently shivering body. Moaning softly he shook his head. Something had gone wrong. He had wanted to have a look at what was happening but instead seemed to have cast his mind into the past once more. Everything else was absolutely impossible. He had seen Barak die. Had seen the ruins of Angband bury the dark elf beneath them.

Still trembling he climbed to his feet, looking at the clock. It was almost time to meet Glorfindel. Sighing he walked slowly to the windows, drawing the rich, velvet curtains aside. At once Anor's last red-golden rays invaded the library, basking the long rows of books in a soft glow. Still the beauty of the sunset failed to warm Erestor's heart. He was too confused. Shaking his head he tore his gaze from the view outside and started towards the door, unlocking it as quietly as possible. Hopefully no one had tried to talk to him in the last few hours. Now he only had to convince Glorfindel that everything was in perfect order.

Elvish Translations:

Adar Father

Angband Melkor's stronghold during the first age


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Lindir!" the twins called out in unison, quickly dismounting and embracing their former tutor.

"Welcome home, pyn-neth," the silver-haired minstrel smiled, letting go of the two peredhel as soon as possible, "Maybe you would like to…," he raised an eyebrow, "Take a bath or such before you greet the rest of the house."

"Maybe," Elladan grinned, handling the reins of their mounts to a stable boy. "Did ou inform our father that we would be home from patrol today?"

"Nay, and even if I had tried," Lindir shrugged, "I doubt he would have listened. He usually locks himself in his study or in the library with Erestor."

"Does he now?" Elrohir asked, his expression thoughtful. "We will see what we can do about that. After a bath." He added with another grin at Lindir's expression.

"Hannon lle," Lindir was obviously relieved, "Meanwhile I shall ask the cook to prepare a meal for the two of you." He eyed the two black.haired elves with obvious disapproval. "You've become way too thin."

She was still staring intently down at the mirror as two strong arms suddenly encircled her waist and she felt someone nuzzle her neck. With a sigh she leaned back, relaxing into the touch.

"What is it this time, melme?" a soft voice asked, "I promised you that I would not pressure you to sail for Aman before you feel ready to leave these shores."

Galadriel shook her head. "'Tis not the western shore that worries me, hervenn-nîn," she whispered, enjoying the feeling of Celeborn's body pressed against hers, "A shadow and a threat have been growing in my mind. Something draws near, I can feel it."

"You worry too much," Celeborn gently drew his wife away from her mirror, leading her back to their talan, "And yu know that the mirror is quite useless with the power of the rings gone."

"That's just another thing that worries me," Galadriel murmered, grinning as Celeborn merely cocked his head. It always astonished her anew that he was able to read her moods so easily.

"The power of the mirror should be fading," she sighed.

"But?"

"But it still shows me bits and pieces of the future. Or the past. That's exactly the problem," irritatedly she folowed her husband to the banks of the river Nimrodel, where they seated themselves beneath an anvient weeping willow, "The mirror is undoubtedly weaker, but I cannot control it anymore; I'm unable to choose what to see and thus am unsure if what I see is already past or still bound to happen."

"And you are unsure because?" Celeborn picked a small flower, gently weaving it into Galadriel's hair.

"I am unsure because I feel that there is a shadow rising somewhere on Arda, but the shadow my mirror shows me might just as well Sauron's lst rise to power."

"You speak as though he might rise again."

"Who else? He was the only one strong enough to take Melkor's place, who if not he should be able to make me sense a new shadow?"

Celeborn sighed, shaking his head. "You worry too much," he said decisively, "The witchking of Arnor is slain, the Nazgûl are no more and the ring has been destroyed. Sauron's life force was bound to that ring, he cannot have survived."

"But what if he did?" Galadriel insisted, staring at the gentle waves, "Who knows how long this peace will hold? Ortcs are returning to the free lands of Middle Earth."

"Very well," Celeborn sighed exasperatedly, "I will admit that these orcs might become a danger. I will send letters to Mirkwood and Imladris, asking if they have the same problem."

Galadriel quietly nodded her consent, still lost in thought.

"What?" a somewhat bemused frown graced Celeborn's features, "Do you wish to take another course of action?"

"No, no," Galadriel quickly replied, laying her hand onto Celeborn's, "But what if we aren't the only realm with an orc-problem?"

Celeborn grinned. "Didn't I already tell you today that you worry too much?"

"Aye, you did," Galadriel nodded reluctantly, staring into her husbands silver eyes, "But you know I cannot help worrying…"

"Let's cross that bridge when we get there," Celeborn murmered, closing the distance between them.

"As you wish," Galadriel whispered against his lips, signalling for the nearby guards to leave them alone.

"You will go," Thranduil repeated stubbornly, glaring at the blond elf in front of him as he paced through his throne hall.

"But my liege," Bellmaethorion tried to protest, "Surely there are others who you could send in my stead, I do not wish to leave my duties here and…"

"If I order you to leave your duties, then you will leavre your duties, seneschall!" Thranduil snapped, green eyes blazing.

"As you wish milord," Bellmaethorion sighed, "What do you desire me to do on this journey?"

"I want you to have an eye on my son," Thranduil stated calmly, sitting down on his throne, "The roads are dangerous again and he has vanished without an escort. Find out where he is."

"Shall I bring him home, Sire?"

"Nay, Bellmaethorion, I do not want you to babysit. He's quite old enough to know his own mind. Follow him where ever he may go. And if his road should lead you through Lorien or Imladris, try to find out if there is talk of a new shadow."

"A new shadow, Sire?" Bellmaethorion grasped the handle of his sword, flexing his broad shoulders, "Forgive me, but would't it be better if I stayed and organised our defences instead of…"

"I told you to go, seneschall!" Thranduil roared, rising to his full height, "And I command you to go now!"

Gulping Bellmaethorion took a step backwards. "As you wish my liege," the blond warrior murmered, bowing deeply before his king, "I shall find your son."

"I hope you do," Thranduil's voice was as cold as ice, "I do not suffer fools lightly.!

Bowing once moer Bellmaethorion retreated as Thranduil waved a dismissive hand at him, already turning his attention elsewhere. He had been lucky.

Elrond clasped his hand over his mouth to muffle a shocked scream as Glorfindel pushed him through the library doors. Erestor lay on the floor, a helpless heap with tangled, black hair that clung to his head, glistening with blood.

"Valar help us," Elrond whispered, kneeling down beside his advisor and checking for a pulse.

"Did you see anyone leave or enter the library, Glorfindel?"

"Nay my lord," the blond elda shook his head, "Nor did I see anyone in here with him or on the stairs."

"Neither did I," Elrond murmered, "But at least he is still alive." The half-elf did not look up as he spoke to Glorfindel, once again making sure that Erestor's heart was still beating.

"Go, get a blanket or something," he said, "I will keep watch over Erestor."

As soon as Glorfindel returned with the blamket, they gently heaved Erestor onto it, trying to move the unconscious elf as little as possible.

"Be careful on the stairs," Elrond admonished Glorfindel as the lifted the blanket, each of them holding two of its edges, "We will bring him to the next available bed in the Healing Houses."  
The blond nodded, quietly following Elrond, his gaze always fixed on his feet. To stumble now was out of question.

"Get him out of those robes! Carefully!" Elrond commaned, as Erestor finally lay on one of the sick-beds, I will tell someone to fetch some hot water!"

Gingerly Glorfindel undressed Erestor, taking care to touch the raven-haired elf as little as possible. He frowned, as he finally managed to cast the advisor's black robes to the floor.

The Erestor's torso was almost coated in blood and the parts, that were free of the mostly dried red, were covered in dark bruises. Some of the bruises were still swelling; the internal wounds obviously still bleeding.

"Elrond?" Glorfindel asked, as he heard movement behind him.

"Yes?"

"Something's very wrong…"

The elda turned in surprise, as Elrond laughed roughly.

"Something wrong? We found him in the library, Glorfindel! If managed to get past the guards and attack him, something is very definitely wrong!"  
"No," Glorfindel shhok his head, taking the water basin from the half-elf, "I just meant… there's blood on him, a lot of blood and bruises but…" he paused, frowning again, "I cannot find any wound upon him."

"What?" Elrond stared incredulously at the blond, "Glorfindel, you must be joking!"

"Nay, I am not."

"Well…" Elrond said, sounding unconvinced, "Let's wash the blood of, we'll see then…"

Quietly the two elves washed Erestor, growing more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

Still unable to speak the two gazed down at the unconscious elf on the bed.

"Well?" Glorfindel finally asked, clearing his throat.

"It's impossible, but still…" Elrond trailed off, "Something, nay someone, must have caused these bruises. And the blood must have come from somewhere…"

"I know!" Glorfindel's voice was shrill, almost hysterical, "But the scars, what about…"

"I do not know!" Elrond snapped, shock and stress finally getting to him, "But they look as though they are quite old…" he added thoughtfully.

"Shouldn't they have faded by now, then?" Glorfindel asked, tracing a scar that ran across Erestor's chest, starting at the councillor's left collarbone and running down to his navel.

"Aye, they should." Sighing Elrond stepped forward, tucking a blanket around his advisor. "I shall ask one of the healers to sit with him," the lord of Imladris decided, "Mayhap he can tell what happened when he wakes."

"I will sit with him."

Elrond's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. "Do you think that wise, meldir? I know you like him, but the two of you never really got along and…"

"If he was indeed attacked," Glrofindel interrupted, "Then it is my fault, for it is my duty to keep Imladris and its borders safe. I will sit with him."

"Very well." Elrond nodded finally, "Inform me at once should he wake. I will be in my study."

"As you wish, milord." Glorfindel gave a brief bow and then settled down beside Erestor's feet, staring at the other's face. There had to be something he could do. He just had to find out what.

Elvish Translations:

Hannon lle thank you

Hervenn-nîn My husband

Melme Love

Pyn-neth Little ones


	5. Chapter 4

Author's notes: Thanks so much! I had left some spaces but somehow they appear to get lost when I update the documents. As for not allowing anonymous revies, I did not even know that they could be disabled. Thanks for bringing that to my attention, I changed the setting.

Erusel, Erestor and Glorfindel will become a couple, promised! Oh and

CAUTION: (tw)incest! And hints at self-harm/mutilation.

Chapter 4

"Ai Elbereth," Elladan swam towards the stairs of the swimming pool, ignoring the splashing and snorting noises his brother was making, "It's good to be home again." He sat down on the stairs, far enough in the pool to be immersed in the water unto his shoulders.

"Come back in Dan!" his twin called, swimming on the far end of the pool.

Gingerly Elladan took a vial from the rim and poured some of the rose-scented shampoo into his hand, glancing around in irritation. It was too loud. And this time his brother was not even the source of his irritation.

Suddenly he noticed that the noise was not what irritated him but the absence of certain sounds that should be heard here.

The bathing houses were surrounded by pieces of walls that surrounded the pools in three circles; the walls had been placed in a manner that did not allow any insight into the structure. Where the space between two pieces of one circle was, the wall in the next circle covered it, thus protecting the pools from wind and rain as well as unwelcome observers.

Grapes, vines and ivy had climbed up the walls and onto the light stone roof that was covered with moss, turning the bathing house into a seemingly natural grotto.

What irritated Elladan was the fact that he heard almost no birds and animals. He heard the normal hustle of subdued activity outside but something was missing. His frown deepened. Something vital.

"Elrohir?" he called, wotking the shampoo into his hair.

"Yes?" his twin suddenly surfaced directly beside him, a broad grin on his face, "What is it?"

"Don't you think," Elladan paused, drawing his eyebrows together, "That something is missing?"

"Missing?" Elrohir frowned too, looking much more like their father than his twin as he did so, "No, I don't think so."

"but…" Elladan started again, while Elrohir took over working the shampoo into Elladan's hair, "Don't you think that it's… too quite or something?"  
"No," Elrohir shook his head, "You worry too much, Dan. We've been out in the open for weeks; of course you miss the sound of the forest at first." He took a jug with war, water and started rinsing the shampoo from his twin's hair.

Elladan closed his eyes, leaning into the caring touch with a contented sigh.

"But…" Elrohir continued, gently massaging his brother's skalp, leaning closer to whisper into Elladan's ear, "I might find a way to distract you from your irritation…"

Elladan shivered as hot breath caressed his skin. "El'hir…" he whispered, "Please don't… someone could see…"

"Sch..:" Elrohir replied, tenderly kissing his brother's neck, "Anor has already set…. Ithil will rise soon. No one will disturb us…."

Slowly Elladan turned around, facing his brother in the dim twilight. Almost identical storm-grey eyes locked gazes as they drifted towards each other.

Briefly Elrohir's gaze dropped to Elladan's slightly parted lips. "Dan…" he whispered, unconsciously licking his lips.

"El'hir…" his twin mimicked, slowly sealing Elrohir's lips with his own. The kiss was slow and sensuous, a meeting of souls as well as bodies.

Elladan parted his lips, allowing Elrohir to slide inside, his tongue twirling and twisting as the twins finally embraced, pale skin moving against skin. Slowly the explored each other's body again, delighting in the moaned reactions they drew.

Glorfindel shivered and wrapped the blanket Elrond had given him tighter around his shoulders. He was nnot exactly cold but somehow he felt uncomfortable. There was no clock in the room to tell him what time it was. The room was rather small, holding no more than the bed, a nighstand, a chair and a shelf for some medicines. These rooms were not meant to make anyone feel comfortable. Sighing he concentrated on squinting at Erestor's pale face.

The advisor had not moved once since they had lain him down. And now, in Ithil's silver glow he looked more like a ghost than a living being.

"Erestor?" Glorfindel climbed from his cramped-up position on the bed and drew up the chair, sitting down next to the advisor's sleeping form. Gingerly he took one of the councillor's cold hands into his own. "You know you have to wake up eventually," he said, his voice strained, "Elrond would not manage without you," he smiled, "That stubborn peredhil would propably end up wearing two different shoes if you leave us."

The blond bowed his head, staring at the floor. "Who shall I torment when you are gone? I always taught you would be stubborn enough to live on, no matter what." a single, silver tear slid down the blond's cheek, soundlessly dropping to the floor.

"Am not… stubborn…" a coarse voice suddenly rasped out.

"Erestor!" Glorfindel's eyes were wide with shock and totally bewildered. "I knew you would not die," he said smugly, his vivacious grin back in place.

"You should drink something," he decided, helping Erestor into a sitting position and stuffing pillows under the advisor's back to make sitting up easier for him. "Elrond said he would strip me of my rank if I did not make you drink some water as soon as you awoke."

The arch of Erestor's lleft eyebrow made his disinclination to believe the blond more than obvious but he accepted the glass of water nevertheless, taking little sips of the clear liquid.

"Why… are you… here?"

"Why?" Glorfindel frowned, "Erestor, you were attacked" Here, within the Last Homely Houses! It's my duty to guard Imladris! I failed you…"

"No," Erestor shook his head, "Even you Glorfindel, a Balrog-slayer returned, would not have been able to deter my attacker if you had been able to notice him. Which you were not," he added almost as an afterthought.

Glorfidel's eyes narrowed. "So you were attacked."

"Yes."

"By what?"

"Something that cannot be seen."

"Erestor, this is nonsense." Glorfindel sighed exasperatedly, "Invisible things usually do not attack elves. Who did this to you?"

"No one." Erestor glanced at something beyond Glorfindel, "I was just reminded of some… unpleasant memories…"

"Erestor!" Glorfindle glared, "You were covered in blood! There are still bruises all over you! Memories cannot physically hurt people!"

"Trust me, seneschall, some can," Erestor smiled sadly, "But that is no concern of yours."

An uneasy silence settled between the two elves as Glorfindel thoughtfully stared at Erestor while the advisor looked everywhere but at Glorfindel.

"Fine," the blond seneschall said slowly, "Let's just for a moment assume that your memories are unpleasant enough to physically manifest themselves in blood…"

Erestor exhaled labouringly, a shiver running through him.

"That still doesn't explain the bruises," Glorfindel continued, "Nor," he grabbed the blanket, uncovering Erestor, "Nor does it explain these scars."

Erestor hung his head, staring at the wall to his right. "My old injuries are no concern of yours, Glorfindel," he said, his voiuce betraying only the slightest shiver, "Let me be."

"No," the blond shook his head, "I don't know why Elrond didn't notice but I am a warrior, Erestor and I know old wounds when I see them. These scars," he lightly touched Erestor's left arm, "Are not old."

Erestor yanked his arm away, wrapping them around himself, "Just go away, Glorfindel," he whispered brokenly, "Please…"

"I cannot," the blond whispered.

Erestor just whispered "Why?", closely followed by a choked sob.

"Because life is too precious to be wasted," Glorfindel said softly, taking Erestor's hand, "I should know, Erestor. I died once."

Slowly the advisor looked up, eyes glittering with unshed tears as he searched the eldar's face. "You have no idea, Glorfindel," he whispered, "The pain of living is sometimes worse than death."

"Aye," the blond nodded, cradling Erestor's hand, "And yet all life is worth living."

"You don't understand… you can't…. no one can…"

"I can." Glorfindel insisted, "And I am willing to give it a try. Do you think I do not know the nightmares? The fear?"

Erestor stared at him.

With a deep breath Glorfindel continued, "I dream of my death, Erestor, I understand the pain of memories… whatever memories may keep you prisoner, let me help carry the burden…" he implored, gazing deeply into Erestor's eyes, that were swimming with tears.

Slowly Erestor nodded, giving a surprised yellp as Glorfindel buried him in a hug.

The advisor froze but slowly relaxed into the embrace, hanging on to Glorfindel as though his life depended on it with tears running freely down his face. "You are wrong," he whispered into the elder's shoulder, "So wrong… I could never do anything right, he told-d m-me so of-ften that I j-just could… couldn't do anything right…" he sobbed, "He said p-p-punishment and sport were the… only thing-s I was good for…"

Tears gathered in Glorfindel's eyes as he patted the advisor's back, gently rocking the shivering body, "Who did?" he whispered, his voice catching in his throat.

"Barak…" Erestoe whispered, his shuddering intensifying, "Barak.."

Elvish Translations:

Amin mela lle I love you


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A smile played on Elrond's lips as he entered the room. Erestor had curled up in his sleep, resting his head on his arms but one hand was still entangled with Glorfindel's, who was sittting on the stair, head slumped forward and resting on the bed.

"Glorfindel?" Elrond whispered softly, squeezing the seneschall's shoulder. Weary blue eyes gazed sleepily at him.

"Hmmm?"

"How is he?" Elrond nodded towards Erestor, "His sleep seems to be peaceful this time."

Glorfindel nodded, slowly stretching his legs, "He had a sort of emotional break-down during the night," the blond explained, "I comforted him till he fell asleep again, he has been sleeping fitfully since then."

"Erestor?" Elrond's eyes were wide with disbelief, "An emotional break-down?"

"Yes." Glorfindel's eyes narrowed intently, "He is capable of emotion, you know."

"Peace, meldir," Elrond took a step back, "I was merely surprised. Did you find out what happened?"

"Do you remember what happened shortly after I had been… send back to Arda?"

Elrond frowned. "What exactly do you mean?"

"At night," Glorfindel sighed, "When I had the nightmares… you remember?"

"Aye I do," Elrond's eyebrows were almost meeting each other now, "Your nightmares of your… death were so intense that the memories somehow manifested themselves… your room almost burnt once…"  
"Exactly," Glorfindel sighed, discomfort obvious on his face, "I think almost the same thing happened to Erestor… he must have relived a particularly painful memory for some reason and the memory manifested in the blood…"

"Glorfindel," Elrond sighed exasperatedly, "That only happened to you because yiu had been reborn, had died before… such things usually don't happen."

"But perhaps Erestor…"

"No," Elrond cut him off, "He was alwas a scribe, a councilor, I have known him a long time Glorfindel, I would know if he had been reborn. The blood must have come from somewhere else?"

"And where?" Glorfindel asked sarcastically, "Just dropped from heaven?"

"That," Elrond smiled grimly, "Is exactly what I want you to find out, seneschall."

Dazed Glorfindel stared after his lord, shaking his head. Even Elrond seemed to be a little bit out of character.

He was actually humming a small tune as he strode into the great hall. A tune, which a certain young elfling had sung for him ages agi and which was totally out of place in the dark castle. He knew that some of the orcs were looking curioulsy at him but he chose to ignore that for now. Things were prpcessing far too nicely at the moment to scare off the slaves.

He grinned, seating himself at the black table as he drew his knife and carefully positioned his left arm over the silver bowl.

More than a month had passed since he had sent his newest servant away and he knew that he should have reached his goal soon. It was almost time.

Barak winced as the silver blade prazed his skin, cutting deeply into his wrist. A small trail of blood trickled down, running along his fingers before the drops gathered in the bowl. He could feel the power coursing through his blood. A power he would need in a few moments. Barak frowned and concentrated, forcing his natural heeling power to speed up and close the wound. Only seconds later no more than a faint silver scar was left.

Humming once more he hung the bowl with his blood over the fire place, waiting for the dark red liquid to evaporate.

"Duathion…" he chanted as fumes rose into the air and power was released into the room, "Duathion… by the bound of blood I call thee… hear me…" he smiled as his mind linked with Duathion's and raised both arms, speaking in an ancient language that Melkor himself ha taught him. The fire rose, encirling the bowl, melting the silver that dropped into the flames with a screaming chorus of hissing sounds that mingled with the coarse words he spoke.

Suddenly an absolute blackness filled the halls and a strange cold raced through him, glazing the walls in a thin coat of ice. The darkness retreated but part of it seemed to be caught under the ice, angrily vibrating against the ice.

Barak smiled. The spell had been completed. Soon everything he needed would be in his hands. Or rather everyone.

"Ow!" Elrond jumped up, angrily glaring at the chair he had just tried to sit down in. Grimly he rubbed his aching backside, giving the pinecone another murderous glare.

"See?" a light, laughing voice to his left said, "I told you he would fall for it."

Elrond stared as Elrohir slowly came out behind one of the many tapestries that adorned the walls.

The soft laugh was mirrored as Elladanstepped out of the curtains, grinning at his father.

"But… but…" Elrond started to say, changing his mind and jumping forward, burying his sons in a tight hug, "We didn't expect you back for at least another forthnight!"

"We came early," Elladan started, returning the hug with almost as much enthusiasm as his brother, "We wanted to surprise you," Elrohir conmtinued, "And," his expression darkened slightly, "There are a few things we have to talk about with you…"

"Can it wait until after dinner?" Elrond asked, "It's almost time."

"It can," the twins said in unison, stepping back.

"Good." Elrond grinned wickedly, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "In that case you two can take this… offending item," he pointed briefly at the pinecone, "And give it a new residence outside, where no one, hear me, I mean absolutely no one could by accident step or sit down on it."

"Yes Adar."

"And since you seem to be so fond of pines, you can help the gardeners with them for the next… let's say… 50 years."

"But Adar!…"

"70." Elrond's eyebrows rose, daring his sons to utter another word of protest.

"Very well," Elrohir sighed after a nudge from Elladan's elbow, "Anything else?"

"Yes, if you see Erestor about, please send him to me."

"We will." Elladan nodded, dragging his twin out of the room.

Bellmaethorian frowned, urging his horse to a halt and soundlessly sliding to the ground. A foul smell lingered on the wind. Slowly he circled the area, checking the ground for tracks. He had decided to travel to Imladris first, knowing that the orince had friends there and was already close to the borders. Close enough to the Last Homely House that nothing evil should linger nearby. And yet, the stench evoked in him an unexplainable feeling of danger. He stopped as he suddenly encountered something. Still holding his mount by the rains he knelt down to the tracks, comitting them to memory and measuring them with the span of his fingers.

The tracks seemed to be footprints, about the same size of a well-grown human. The prints were deep, indicating that whichever creature had left these tracks was heavy, at least twice or three times the weight of a man, he guessed. The feet, however, ended in a three-fingered claw with sharp talons on each toe. Carefully he got up, straining his hearing to make sure that the creature was not lurking nearby. His frowned deepened as he noticed the broken twigs and leaves. Obviously the creature was tall as well, at least as tall as an elf, maybe even taller and walking on two legs.

He had never heard or read of such a creature.Shuddering he climbed back onto his horse. He would report this to the Imladris guard as soon as he was there. In safety.

A dark shadow moved in the bushes as Bellmaethorion rode away and stepped onto the clearing. A black muzzle rose, sniffing the wind that carried a low growl as the creature once more caught the scent of the elf. It irritatedly unfolded its wings as it stepped back into the shadow of the woods, black skin moving over rippling muscles and a nervously switching tail. It had been the wrong elf but it knew that the time would come. Soon. Its master would be pleased. It only had to remain hiden till the right elf came.

Dinner was a quiet and somewhat strange affair that evening. Elrond did not speak at all and kept stealing suspicious glances at Erestor when he thought that no one was looking. Glorfindel and Erestor only whispered to each other and looked equally suspiciously at Elrond while Lindir tried his best to start a conversation with the twins, who were far too busy with trying to figure out what was the mkatter with his father and their two former tutors. Even the servants did not dare to say anything.

"What do you think?" Elrohir whispered to his twin, taking the opportunity as another course was served.

"Don't know," Elladan hissed back, "Maybe they argued."

"Or maybe they already noticed some of what we have to tell father."

"Maybe."

Silence settled once more in the hall as the servants left, leaving their lords to pick at the food.

Miraculously Lindir had managed to convince the others into spending the remainder of the evening in the hall of fire and was now entertaining them by playing some songs on his harp.

Elrond throned in his chair, arms rested at his sides as he stared into the flames, while the twins sat on a bear-skin nearby, reclining against the wall and talking softly to each other.

Lindir smiled as he gazed at the two identical faces from under lowered lashes. No matter what, they had grown into two wonderfuly elves; he only hoped that their father would still see that as well when he found out.

"Lindir?" Glorfindel suddenly asked.

"Yes, mylord?" Lindir turned, looking inquiringly at the blond seneschall who was sitting cross-legged on the sofa he shared with Erestor.

"Why don't you sing something?"

"A wonderful idea," Elrond commented, "I think we could all do with a little distraction."

Quite some songs and a few rounds of wine later the six elves were all sitting in front of the fire place, chatting avidly.

"Very well played, my lord," Lindir said as Elrond gave him back the harp, "But the text was somewhat…" his ears turned red.

Elrond laughed, grinning at the blushing minstrel, "I was but a soldier in Gil-Galad's army," he said, "And soldier's songs are all I know. Maybe sopmeone else has a more appropriate song?" he glaned hopefully around.

"Of course," Glorfindel started, plucking the instrument from Lindir's hands, "And I know just who."

Erestor stared at the harp Glorfindel had just thrust into his hands while the others glanced expectantly at him.

"Oh no," he protested, shaking his raven hair, "I cannot… I havn't…"

"Please do, Erestor," Elrond interrupted.

"I do not have the voice, my lord," Erestor squirmed as Elrond raised his eyebrows, "Well, maybe," he acceded, "But I haven't sung for a long time and…"

"Please do," Elladan and Elrohir butted in at once as he trailed off, "We have never heard you sing."

"Very well," Erestor sighed, carefully pulling a few strings, "I shall."

He only hummed at first and then sang, a slow, melancholy melody in a strange language that sounded almost elvish.

"Thank you for forcing me to stay on after dinner," Erestor said as he walked through the garden with Glorfindel.

"It was as much my pleasure as everyone else's," Glorfindel grinned, "Though I must admit you amazed me. You have the most beautiful singing voice."

"Thank you, lord seneschall," Erestor said graciously.

"Please sit down," Glorfindel quickly caught Erestor's arm as the advisor stumbled over a small rock and led the raven-haired elf to a small stone bench beneath an enormous beech.

Ithil had long ago risen and long, silvery shadows gently caressed the trees and flowers around them. For a while they sat next to each other, simply looking at their surroundings.

"What did it mean?" Glorfindel finally asked.

"What?" Erestor stared at the blond in confusion.

"Your song," Glorfindel gentlx cupped Erestor's hand with his own, "None of us knew the language. What was it about?"

"Oh…" Erestor stuttered briefly, "It was not really a song, it was rather a poem, a description of images and feelings."

"Would you translate it for me?"

"I can try." Glorfindel released a breath he had not known he had been holding when Erestor finally answered.

"It goes like this:

_a soft whisper of wind_

_no more than a gasp_

_gently caressing yelling leaves_

_fog stirring and swirling around them_

_waving at the lonesome wanderer_

_bent head under dew-smothered cobwebs_

_a soft murmur of thoughts_

_almost like the fog_

_circling and winding _

_around cloud-obscured heavens_

_all light is drawn_

_into just one more grey_

_that suffocates dark mountain peaks_

_quiet footsteps at a whispering stream_

_wisps of foam easily lost_

_a timid glance upwards_

_small budding cusps upon an_

_almost lifeless tree_

_caught so close to blossom_

_yet frozen in eternity_."

Glorfindel gulped as the loneliness and desolation the poem spoke of made his eyes water and buried Erestor in his arms, blinking repeatedly.

"Glorfindel…" Erestor said slowly, struggling against the blond.

"Sch…" Glorfindel whispered, licking his suddenly dry lips, "You know that you are not alone; you have found a family here in Imladris."

"I know," Erestor whispered, a soft smile on his lips, "As have you."

"Yes.." Glorfindel breathed, gently cupping Erestor's chin and tilting the advisor's head upwards, "We both have…"

Erstor bilnked gain as their lips met in a slow kiss, unable to believe what was happening.

"Erestor?" Glorfindel asked, drawing back as he noticed the tear that was running over the advisor's face, "What is amiss?"

"Please…" Erestor moved out of Glorfindel's embrace, slowly standing up, "I… feel… for you," he said, pausing every now and then, "But please accept that this… us… can never be. I would ask you not to approach me in this manner again."

"But Erestor…" Glorfindel stared at the dark elf, ibviously confused, "Where is the problem? I know we are both male but…"

"No," Erestor vehemently shook his head, "I anm sorry, Glorfindel, but I can never be with you." He inhaled a long painful breath. "I am already bound to someone."

Glorfindel stared in shock, unable to react as Erestor turned and fled the place, running back into the house with his steps on the path resounding hollowly in Glorfindel's ears.

"Bound?" the blond whispered as he finally understood what Erestor had said, "Bound? But to whom?"


	7. Chapter 6

Crecy, yes I am sure, but there is always a way out! hint I also tried to explain a few things. Thanks for reviewing!

Chapter 6

"Ahem," Elrond cleared his throat loudly, barely resisting the urge to tap his foot on the floor.

"My lord," Erestor inclined his head, setting the book he had been holding back onto the shelf, "Forgive me for not greeting you but I had not noticed your approach."  
"Erestor," Elrond sighed exasperatedly, pointing at an adjoinig door. "You," he said impatiently, "My study. At once."

"As you wish, mylord," Erestor said simply, vanishing in a flutter of black robes. Still shaking his head Elrond followed.

"Please, meldir," Elrond gestured at the chair in front of his desk while he walked around the table and seated himself on the opposite side, "Be seated." Quietly Erestor complied.

"We need to talk," the elf lord said firmly, hoping that Erestor would be willing to listen to reason.

"I am sorry, my lord," Erestor said formally, "But I cannot see any reason that would necissitate such a conversation."

"Erstor!" Elrond frowned, "Your behaviour has lately been very strange and…,"

"I know, mylord but I can assure you in spite of that my behaviour will be just like it always was as soon as I have caught up on some sleep."

Elrond rested his elbows on the desk, which was littered with letters and papers, and rested his chin on his hands, staring intently at Erestor. "Something is happening," the peredhel insisted, "And you seem to be the center of what is happening."

"Mylord," Erestor tried to explain, "I truly have no idea what…"

"No," Elrond sighed, shaking his head, "I believe you when you say you don't know what exactly is happening but you know at least something. And I need to know what you know. I don't intend to let any danger threaten my realm. Not while I can do anything against it."

"I understand perfectly, mylord."

"Very well," Elrond sat up straight, willing Erestor to talk, "What do you know? Where di the blood come from? Glorfindel started to believe that you might have been reliving a memory."

Erestor winced slightly. "He is right," he said curtly.

Elrond sighed again, frowning, "I was under the impression that such things only happened to elves in which the power of the Valar runs strong. Namely elves wha have been reborn."

"Not only," Erestor hesitated a moment but then went on, "It can also happen to elves who are old."

Elrond's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. "How old?"

The advisor shivered. "Old enough to have seen the lights of Telperion and Laurelin."

Elrond stared, his mouth half-open, "And the kin-slaying?" he asked, his voice a coarse whisper.

"That too, though I took no part in it."

"I never knew…" Elrond stuttered, "Never suspected…"

"You never asked." Erestor pointed out dryly.

"Very well then," Elrond started once he had regained his composure, "I accept that your memories may have manifested themselves but there is something else I would like to talk about.

"Yes?"

"Glorfindel talked to me this morning."  
"Did he? He shouldn't have."

Elrond leaned bacj in his chair, always keeping eye-contact, "He was most upset about what happened yesterday evening, or rather about how the evening ended."

"I am sorry for that, I did not mean to cause harm." Erestor's eyes remained unreadable.

"Of course you didn't," Elrond agreed, "But why did you lie to him?"

"I did not, I am truly bound."  
Elrond frowned, "I have never met your mate, never seen you with anyone in more than three milennia."

"My… mate… and I are… estranged," Erestor answered haltingly, ignoring Elrond's frown.

"That's highly unusual."

"I was rather young when I was bound."  
"But you told Glorfindel that you feel for him." Elrond protested bemusedly.

Erestor nodded, "Because I do."

Elrond shook his head. "How long has it been since you last saw your mate?"

"6 or 7 milennia."

"What?" Elrond stared incredulously at Erestor, "6 or 7 milennia? Then why haven't you renounced the bond? Taken the chance to be free again?"

"I cannot."

Sighing the preedhel glared at his chief advisor, "That's nonsense, Erestor, you can end the bond."

"No," Erestor shook his head, "Bonds of the spirit can be renounced but not this one. It's a bond of blood."

"A bond of blood?" Elronf parroted, unable to believe what he was hearing, "You not only exchanged vows but also bound yourself by blood?"

Erestor gulped, looking down on his hands, "Something like that. I am bound to him till death doth us part."

"I see," Elrond massaged his temples, trying to figure out what to do next, "How strong are your feelings for Glorfindel?"

"Rather." Erestor looked up, for the first time meeting Elrond's eyes straight on.

"Well," Elrond sighed again, "Please do me a favour and talk to Glorfindel. He'll go mad if you don't."

"Very well," Erestor nodded slowly and got up. At the door he stopped once more. "Elrond?" he asked without turning around.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Elrond smiled, allowing himself to stare at nothing in particular as he watched his advisor leave, already plotting ways to trick the raven-haired elf into revealing his mate's identity.

He felt his blood sing in an unwilling greeting as a presence touched his mind. He shook his head, trying to free himself from the mental influence. "No…" he whispered.

"Duathion?" a voice said in his mind.

"No…" Everything around him went black and he turned, walking back into the direction he had just come from.

Elrond looked up as the door to his study opened once more. He stared, startled as no one entered and the door closed itself as though moved by a ghost.

"Hello?" he asked, glancing suspiciously around. No one answered. He shuddered as the shadows around him thickened, creeping closer ever so slowly. A worried glance at his left hand confirmed his suspicion. Vilya was glowind furiously, pulsing with an angry blue light.

Evil lingered close by.

"Hello?" he tried again, shivering as a strange cold suddenly permeated the room. "Who is there?" he tried to say something else but it was already too late. The shadows closed in on him, drawning out the world. No one noticed as the shadow lifted Elrond, carrying him out of the room by paths that lay entirely in another realm.

He sniffed as he caught a strange scent on the wind. A scent that was definitely elven but put him in mind of his master nevertheless.It was time.

Silently he moved out of the shadows, rearing his head and staring into the direction the smell was coming from with glowing red eyes. He was tall, with black skin, slanted eyes and a muscular shape. Both, arms and legs ended in claws and talons and a pair of midnight black wings sprouted from his back.

He growled softly as the elf he had expected stepped from the shadows, almost inclining his head as he accepted the bundle the first born had brought. He grinned, throwing the unconscious bundle over his shoulders. With a last nod and flapping wings he sped off, running into the east as fast as he could. His master was waiting.

"Erestor! Erestor!" Elladan yelled, running to where the advisor lay unconsciously on the ground. "Elrohir! Help!"

What? Oh my…" as gently as they could the twins lifted Erestor from the floor and carried him back to his rooms, laying the advisor onto the bed.

What now?" Elladan asked.

"I don't know, get Glorfindel?"

"Good idea."

"Erestor?" Glorfindel asked as the advisor slowly regained consciousness, "What happened this time? Another memory?"

"I don't know…" Erestor shook his head, "I can't remember…" he sat up, releasing a small curse as the room started spinning once more, "Elladan? Elrohir?" he addressed the twins, "Would you please grant us some privacy?

Te twins exchanged a startled look and then nodded simultaniously, "We will. We had decided to report to our father anyway."

Glorfindel and Erestor remained quiet till the twins were finally out of the room.

"Glorfindel," Erestor started slowly, "I am sorry for what happened yesterday and…"  
"No," Glorfindel shook his head, "You don't have to talk about this, I understand perfectly."

"I want to," Erestor insisted, "I said the truth when I told you that I feel for you.. I… I was bound milennia ago and I have not seen my mate since before the last alliance."

"He is dead then?" Glorfindel asked, unable to hide the hopeful undertone in his voice.

"I don't know, I had hoped, had thought… but I he cannot be."  
"Why?"

"Because the bond is still in place." Erestor explained, "I am bound to him by blood."

"But…" Glorfindel frowned, "If the two of you are bound by blood he should be at your side."  
"No," Erestor fidgeted nervously, unable to face the blond any longer, "I was… young… and had no other choice… he is not bound to me Glorfindel, I am only bound to him…"

"What?"

"This bond is one-sided," Erestor repeated, "His is as free as he wishes to be but I can never bind with anyone else unless he dies."

"But… but…" Glorfindel sputtered, "Such bonds have always been outlawed! It is not natural!"

"Please do not ask any further."

"Erestor?" Glorfindel forced the advisor to look at him by lifting his chin, "If you could, would you renounce the bound?"

"I would," Erestor's voice was thick with emotion, his eyes glittering with tears, "I would because I never would have agreed in the first place…"

"But.."

"Please, do not ask." Erestor begged again.

"As you wish," Glorfindel said slowly, gently cupping Erestor's hands, "I had some time to think after yesterday evening and it is enough for me that you would choose me if you were free."

Author's Note: Loved it? Hated it? Found it only okay? Please tell me, feedback is the only way for me to find out what to imporve or change! I am also always glad to listen to ideas concerning story/ characters/ plot. Don's be shy, just talk to me!


	8. Chapter 7

Thanks you four! hugs Yeah, I understand what you mean Erusel, I'm an Erestor/Glorfindel shipper myself.

J-mercuryuk, you're right, but I will solve this problem somehow.

Chapter 7

He shivered, trying to block out the cold as the pounding in his head slowly became less vicious. Trying to curl up into a foetal position he tried to warm himself somehow but something prohibited him from moving. Slowly he opened his eyes, the pain in his head almost instantly doubling. Something growled nearby and he froze at once.

"You're awake. Good," a cruel voice rasped out, "Master wouldn't like damaged goods."  
Elrond's eyes were wide with shock as he saw the creature. Swallowing the lump in his throat, lying still for fear of what his strange captor might do if he moved too much. Quietly he stared.

The creature was black and looked like something between an orc and a firedrake. The orc-part seemed to be the stronger side, though.

"Here," the creature grabbed Elrond by the shoulders and lifted him, settling the elven lord against a tree as if he were no more than a rag doll. "You stay here or you'll be sorry."

Elrond nodded, apprehension washing over him as the creature suddenly picked up a rope and tied him to the tree, a wicked smile on his face.

The peredhel breathed a sigh of relief as the creature disappeared into the dark shadows of the trees around them.

"Glorfindel! Erestor!" the twins yelled, rushing into the library. Erestor flinched as the door slammed shut.

"What is the matter?" Glorfindel was looling around wildly, hand on the handle of his sword.

"Adar has vanished!"

"What?" Erestor sat down on one of the chairs, his voice wobbly, "Please tell me that this is a joke."

"No," Elladan desperately shook his head, staring pleadingly at the two councilors, "We looked for him everywhere and asked all servants but no one has seen him since yesterday afternoon."

"Please," Elrohir's eyes weere brimming with tears, "We have to find him, at once. What if…" he gulped, "If he is no longer in Imladris? There are so many orcs out there…"

"Fear not, pyn-neth," Glorfindel wa already striding out of the room, "I shall organise a search at once. We will find him."

"We're coming with you."

"No!" Erestor determinedly placed himself between the twins and the door, "You don't. You have no idea where your father is and what danger may be awaiting you and…"

"And that is exactly why we have to go," Elrohir finished, trying to stare the black-clad advisor down.

"No, it's why you are going to stay. You are the heirs of Imladris and if something really happened to your father, then we need you here, not in some unknown danger."

Slowly Elladan nodded at Glorfindel, taking hold of his brother's shoulder, "Erestor's advise is sound, brother," he said, "Let Glorfindel and his men ride out to find our father while we check the Last Homely House again."

Reluctantly and with a deep sigh Elrohir agreed.

He slowed his horse, wearily glancing about. Something was very wrong. He had reached the borders of Imladris yesterday evening and camped close to the road, counting on meeting the Imladris guards soon. However, no one had turned up. And he had not seen anyone else today either. Bellmaethorion shuddered as the gates of Rivendell came into sight.

The valley seemed to be deserted but at least the foul smell he had noticed yesterday was almost gone-

Sighing he made up his mind and urged his mount on, through the gates.

Lindir had been on his way to the healing houses when the stranger arrived, but stopped as soon as he noticed the stranger. He had never seen this particular elf before. Mesmerised he stared as the blond warrior jumped from his horse, walking directly towards him.

"Forgive me," the stranger said, greeting Lindir with a slight bow, I am Bellmaethorion, seneschall at Thranduil's court."

"Mae-govannen," the silver-haired minstrel gulped, bowing deeply, "I am Lindir, a minstrel of Imladris."

"Well met, Lindir," Bellmaethorion smiled, "If your song is only half as beautiful as you are then it must be worthy of the Valar indeed."

"You flatter me," Lindir blushed furiously, avoiding the other's gaze, "Please allow me to lead you to chief advisor Erestor. We were not prepared for your arrival."

"Please do so, lirimaer;" Bellmaethorion grinned, deciding that he liked the somewhat shy minstrel, "I have urgent matters to discuss with the lords of this valley."

Elrond shivered as the cold slowly seeped into his body and pressed back against the tree. The day had still been young when the creature had left him but it was already getting dark again. Something rustled nearby as his stomach gave a low rumble.Once more he tugged at the rope but to no avail.

"Stop it," the creature growled as it ssuddenly stepped out of the thicket, "I will not harm you if you do as I tell you."

"But… why?" Elrond stuttered, hoping that the creature would say something important if he kept on talking, "And what are you?"

"Because," the creature grinned, or rather displayed a cruel mimickry of it, "The master wants you. You and that thing there."

"Vilya?" Elrond asked, as he noticed what the creature was pointing at, "But why? The one ring has been destroyed and the others are growing weaker day by day! They will be useless soon!"

"For you," the creature said coldly, "But not for my master."

"Who is your master?"

"Trust me, elf," the ceature growled, "You do not want to know."

"Tell me!" Elrond demanded, receiving no answer as the strange creature turned and rummaged through some sort of bag.

"Eat this." It said, throwing a piece of bread at the half-elf.

Growling it stalked over to the tree, freeing Elrond's arms but making sure that the rope was still securely tied around his waist.

Elrond glanced suspiciously from the bread in his hand to the creature in front of him and back again.

"The bread is not poisoned," the creature growled, returning Elrond's glare.

"Why aren't you eating then?"

Birds flew up in shock as the creature's cruel laughter echoed through the woods. "I have been born by magic," it bellowed, "And from magic I live."

Elrond's gaze dropped to the ring on his finger. Vilya was still glowing, indicating that evil lingered nearby but the blue glow had dimmed.

"Exactly," the creature grinned, "Your ring is what feeds me right now. Oh, don't worry, there are other sources of magic nearby, I can live of the land as well."

"Where are we?"

"Close to the river Anduin."

"Anduin? We already crossed the Hithaiglin? The Foggy Mountains?" Elrond stared at the creature in shock, "How long have I been unconscious?"

"Some weeks I guess," the creature shrugged, "I'm not quite sure, time passes differently for me."

Erestor frowned as the door opened, startled by the sound of footsteps unknown to him. "Who is your companion, Lindir?" he asked, easily identifying the minstrel's steps.

"Please forgive the intrusion," Lindir said formally, "We have a visitor."

"A visitor?"

"Aye," Bellmaethorian answered, chuckling as the advisor looked up, dark brown eyes wide with wonder, "I am looking for someone and had hoped to find him here."

"Bellmaethorion?" Erestor asked "What are you doing here?"

"Excuse me?" Bellmaethorion asked tentatively, "Do I know you, mylord?"

"No, no." Erestor said quickly, "Forgive my confusing you. I have heard of you and recognized you from these tales. What brings you here?"

The seneschall glanced suspiciously at the advisor for a few more seconds but then bowed and went on. "As you probably know, I am seneschall at Thranduil's court."

Erestor nodded graciously, filing away the information for later.

"My liege sent me to find his son, who has been missing for quite some time now. I had hoped to find him here."

"I am sorry," Erestor shook his head, "But I must disappoint you. We have not seen prince Legolas for several years. Why is Thranduil looking for him?"

"I believe they had some sort of… quarrel…," Bellmaethorion said reluctantly.

"It seems that Legolas is not the only elf missing," Erestor said cautiously, "But we will talk of that later. You must be tired from your journey."

"Aye, I am but…"

"No buts," Erestor decreed, "It will make no difference if we look for him now or tomorrow but it will be better if we are well rested." the advisor returned his attention to the papers on his desk, "Please assign quarters to our guest, Lindir."

"As you wish." Lindir nodded and motioned for Bellmaethorion to follow him.

"What was the meaning of that?" Bellmaethroion asked as soon as the door had closed behind them.

"I don't know," Lindir answered honestly, "But I know that it is useless to contradict Erestor when he is in a mood like this. Follow me," he said, "Erestor is right, you will feel better when you're rested."

"Your sight is enough to make me feel better," Bellmaethorion grinned, enjoying teasing Lindir into blushing again, "But I will follow you anyway."

Elvish Translations:

Lirimaer lovely one

Mae-govannen well met


	9. Chapter 8

Well, I guess my evil guy has the typical tendency to brag…

Chapter 8

He almost fell to the ground as the creature put him down again. The sun was just rising, a fiery globe of red in the eastern sky.

"You stay here," the creature growled, once more tying the elf to a tree, "I will come for you when the sun has set."  
Elrond nodded, almost choking on the gag. It was the only thing he could do.

For hours he sat against the tree, not daring to move but when midday approached and the creature had still not returned in spite of his fears he became restless. The air was fresh, the moss moist and he was cold, lonely, scared and just plain miserable. His legs were starting to cramp. Carefully Elrond shifted a little and tugged at his bonds. He had to get away. Every time a twig snapped nearby he feared that the creature had returned. Elrond breathed a sigh of relief as his searching hand encountered a small, sharp stone. Slowly he started to work on his bonds, finally managing to free himself.

With a last prayer to the Valar he slowly, labouringly got up and ran. The forest rushed past him in an undistinguishable blur of green, brown and even more green. Dark twigs and low-hanging branches seemed to reach out for him, trying to catch him but instead only bruising and grazing his skin. His lungs were burning, two pools of liquid fire inside of him and he knew that he had to find somewhere to hide as soon as possible,

Elrond screamed as something grabbed his ankle and the ground rushed towards him.

"no!" a sharp pain sliced through his wrist and up his arm. Whimpering he struggled upwards, kneeling on the ground and nursing his sprained wrist while raucous laughter assaulted his ears.

"Stupid, insolent elf!" the black creature chided him as it stepped from the shadows, "I am Sadjan, you cannot escape me."

A strange sickness settled in Elrond's stomach as the creature closed the distance between them with an impatient growl and loomed over him with a broad grin that meant nothing good.

"At least the master allowed me to punish you if you were foolish," it leered, regarding the elf with a look that made the Peredhel crawl backwards in spite of the pain in his wrist, "We're going to have so much fun," the creature growled, baring its fangs, "So much fun."

"Erestor! Erestor! Come quickly!" Erestor frowned as the door to his library slammed against the wall.

"Elladan." he sighed exasperatedly, rearranging a pile of papers on his desk.

"Glorfindel is back!"

"What?"

"Glorfindel, he is back!"

Almost the entire population of Imladris had assembled in the courtyard as Glorfindel and his men rode through the gates. A disappointed murmur drifted through the assembled crowd.

"Glorfindel?" Elrohir asked shakily, "Where is father?"

"I am sorry, pyn-neth," Glorfindel's voice broke as he knelt down in front of the twins, "I have failed you. We have found many tracks but we were unable to find your father."  
A deadly silence settle over the courtyard as the shocked whispers died down. Elladan gulped.

"I await whatever punishment you may deem adequate." Glorfindel fell silent, keeping his eyes trained on the ground as he waited for the verdict. Erestor froze, a hand raised to his throat in shock. "Glorfindel," he whispered.

"My lords?" the seneschal asked quietly.

With a strangled sob Elrohir turned, running from the courtyard with his twin following at his heels.

"What did you find?" Erestor asked, nervously handing a goblet of mulled wine to Glorfindel.

"We found the tracks of elven boots and followed them deep into the woods," the Eldar gladly took the proffered drink, downing it in one long gulp, "The tracks ended when they crossed another set of tracks, trails that must have been left by a creature with three-fingered claws instead of feet."

Erestor gasped, shock once more evident on his face. "Claws?"

"Aye." Glorfindel nodded, "The creature obviously intercepted the elf and left the clearing again," he shook his head, passing a hand over weary eyes, "There are no elven tracks leading away from the clearing. We found no sign of a corpse, nor did the dogs detect the smell of something… decaying. We decided to follow the tracks."

"And?"

"And nothing," Glorfindel concluded, startled to notice something like relief on the advisor's face, "Deep into the woods, at the feet of the Hithaiglin we lost the track.

"You lost the track?"

"Yes."

"Ahem," a new voice interrupted them, "Forgive me, but it seems you did not hear my knocking."  
Glorfindel's eyes narrowed dangerously as he eyed the blond newcomer with a suspicious glare.

"And who would you be?" the seneschal almost growled, blue eyes clashing with green as the two stared at each other.

"Glorfindel," Erestor said, quickly stepping between the two, "This is Bellmaethorion, Thranduil's seneschal. Bellmaethorion," he added, turning towards the Sindar, "This is Glorfindel, Lord Elrond's seneschal and captain of the guard of Imladris."

"Well met." the two blonds said simultaneously , icily bowing towards each other.

"What business does such a high-ranking member of Thranduil's court have in Imladris?" Glorfindel gestured at one of the couches that filled a corner of the library with a comfortable seating arrangement. Erestor nodded as Bellmaethorion glanced at him and led the two seneschals to the couch.

"Bellmaethorion came in search of Prince Legolas," the advisor explained, seating himself next to Glorfindel, "Unfortunately I had to inform him that we know nothing of the prince's whereabouts."

"Hm…" Glorfindel mumbled, still glaring suspiciously at Bellmaethorion, "When did he vanish from Mirkwood?"

"Some months ago," Thranduil's seneschal said crossing his legs, "I have been looking for him ever since."  
"Hm."  
"I could not help but witness what happened earlier," Bellmaethorion continued, "When I arrived at Imladris' borders some weeks ago I detected the presence of an evil being nearby."

Glorfindel crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Are you trying to imply that I am not capable of fulfilling my duties properly?"

"N0, no," Bellmaethorion hurried to say, "But the tracks I found were left by a creature that walks on two three-fingered claws."  
"Three-fingered claws?" Glorfindel repeated incredulously, "And you did not tell us? Do you remember where you saw them? Can you lead me there?"

"Yes." "No."

Bellmaethorion and Erestor said in the same instant.

Erestor shook his head as both seneschals glared at him. "I understand your wish to act as soon as possible," the advisor explained, "But it is already past midday and it will take you more than a day to reach the eastern border of Imladris. It would be a folly to ride out now. Especially,"" he glared at Glorfindel, "Since you just returned after weeks of absence."

Reluctantly the two blond elves nodded.

"Very well," Glorfindel gave in, "We will ride with the rise of the sun tomorrow morning then."

"Why have you come?" Bellmaethorion asked, resting his hands on the ancient oak's trunk.

"I could ask the same of you." Erestor replied, gracefully settling himself on the grass, "What brings you here? Now of all times?"

"I told you before," Bellmaethorion replied, green eyes flashing dangerously, "I came because my king commanded me to."  
Erestor sighed. "Sit down."

Slowly Bellmaethorion obeyed. "What is it you want of me?" he asked, "You have been acting strangely towards me ever since I arrived."

"I may have," Erestor admitted, "But if I did, it had nothing to do with you."

Bellmaethorion's expression made it more than clear that he did not believe a word the advisor was saying.

"I once knew someone who looked a lot like you," Erestor explained, "The resemblance is really quite striking."

"That does not explain why you knew my name."  
"I told you," Erestor insisted, "I had heard of you."

"But.."

"No buts. I had heard of you, that's all. If you would excuse me now?"

It was clearly no question and Bellmaethorion had no chance to say anything else before the advisor walked away.

"Your conversation with Thranduil's seneschal was most interesting." Glorfindel remarked almost nonchalantly as he tried to keep up with Erestor.

"You overheard us?"  
"I could not help it; you were in the gardens. Everybody could have heard you. Erestor!" he sighed exasperatedly, "We're not going for a run, we're talking a walk!"

"Sorry." Erestor mumbled, slowing down a bit, "I was… annoyed."

"Annoyed?" Glorfindel asked as they left the gardens and strolled into the forest, "What with?"

"You could have gone away when you heard as talking."

"Your conversation was far too interesting."

"Interesting?" Erestor stopped and turned, hands on his hips as he glared at Glorfindel, "There was nothing interesting about it!"

"Then why does it bother you so much that I stopped to listen?"

"Because."

"Erestor," Glorfindel took the advisor's hands into his own and gazed deeply into the other's dark eyes, "I am sorry if I did offend you by staying and listening but I was worried."

"For whom?"

"Everything… nothing. I don't know."  
Erestor smiled, stunning the blond by quickly kissing his brow.

"Very well," the raven-haired elf grinned, "I forgive you."

Surprised Glorfindel started after the retreating councillor, a silly smile fixed on his face as he gently touched his brow.

Elvish Translations

Pyn-neth little ones


	10. Chapter 9

See? I updated sooner this time. I refuse to give up on my fics. I may let them rest for a while but I hate leaving things unfinished. I just don't have much time to write at the moment, since I'll be moving over the weekend to a city 300kms from here. I have to live in e flat my employer assigns to me and… I won't have any internet there….ducks I'll try to pdate evry now and again, though.

Chapter 9

Lindir stood in the middle of the library, watching Erestor and fort he first time really at a loss what to do. He did not know whether to approach the councillor or not. Flicking some unruly strands of hair over his shoulder he decided to settle for attack.

"Erestor?" he asked carefully, taking an almost quavering step into the melancholy gloom that always seemed to emanate from the raven-haired elf these days.

The centre of the depressing gloom was perched on the window sill, unmovingly staring out of the window. Dressed in black robes and with midnight black hair spilling down his back the advisor looked like a gigantic crow, ready to sweep and strike any moment. A pale and tired crow, Lindir reminded himself.

"Erestor?" the minstrel tried again, violet eyes filled with worry. Erestor did not even flex a muscle.

"I am sure that Glorfindel and Bellmaethorion will find a way to locate Elrond," Lindir continued, "And Legolas will surely reappear soon as well."

Without answering Erestor climbed from his seat and poured himself a goblet of wine, slowly sipping the red liquid.

"Elrond always wears Vilya," he said matter-of-factly, "Do you really think that Glorfindel will be strong enough to track and defeat evil that was strong enough to snatch our Lord from the protection of his own borders?"

Lindir did not answer.

Erestor shivered as darkness closed in on him once more. Tomorrow morning Glorfindel would ride. Ride to follow the tracks of a creature the seneschal knew nothing about. Wrapping a cloak around him the advisor stepped onto his balcony, staring up into the cloud-obscured sky.

Tonight not even Ithil had the power to light the dark. The image of tall, black-winged creature suddenly entered his mind. A creature that had once been elven. He wondered how Sadjan had managed to take Elrond and if Glorfindel at least sensed the danger he was determined to ride into.

What could a creature almost as powerful as the Nazgûl had been want with Elrond? Of what use could the lf-lord be to a creature even more ancient than Sauron had been? And if Sadjan had Legolas as well…

Sighing Erestor turned, prepared to settle down for just one more nightmare-haunted rest.

_He sighed, almost giving away his presence as he turned into mist once more. It was strange. He felt free and light but at the same time sensed that someone was guiding him, something was controlling his actions. He would have asked but he was unable to. _

_Slowly he crept through the shadows, approaching the hunched figure at the desk. The elf had noticed him, he was sure of that. Ignoring the elf's whispered question he sneaked closer, expanding behind the alarmed figure's back, ready to suffocate his victim._

_The elf was becoming restless, alarmed. _

_Only seconds later the dark-haired elf lay unconscious on the ground as the mist took solid form once more and an elf in black formal robes stepped forward, curiously staring at the fallen figure at his feet._

"You know this is really all your fault." Gimli hissed as he ducked into the cover of a rock.

"My fault?" Legolas whispered back, "You were the once who wanted to stay from the road just to have a look at some damp caves!"

"You were the one who suggested a short-cut!" the enraged dwarf retorted, carefully scanning the area, "I suppose you expect me to be gratefully that you didn't lead us into a pack of Uruk-hai instead!"

"Ha!" Legolas snorted, "I only meant to help!"

"Well next time kindly refrain from doing so!"  
"Stop complaining!" the elf huffed, "How many orcs do you count?"

"You're the elf," Gimli grumbled, "You're supposed to be one with superior eyesight!"

"How many?" came the impatient hiss back.

"Oh, I would have to guess," Gimli squinted around the rocks, "Two or three ten-folds maybe."

"Two or three?" Legolas frowned, soundlessly sneaking closer to the dwarf, "We have to take them out."  
"Great," Gimli grinned, "Another suicide mission. You know neither of us will be able to top our 43 from Helm's Deep."

"Not today," Legolas grinned back at his friend, "But I intend to live to fight another day and then I shall kill more than you."

"We will see about that, skinny elf."

"Let's go!"

Screaming they charged, clashing into the pack of orcs.

"Who is there?" Bellmaethorion whispered into the dark, unconsciously holding his breath.

"Hello?" he tried again, breath catching in his throat as the floor creaked under silent steps.

"Reveal yourself!" his trembling hand closed around the silver dagger on his nightstand. The chair next to the window creaked.

"Who goes there?"

"Peace," a sombre voice said, "'tis only me." A candle flickered to life, only inches from Bellmaethorion's face, briefly illuminating a pale face on the other end of the room.

"Chief advisor Erestor?" Bellmaethorion sat up, staring at the shadowy figure, "Why do you come to me at such an hour? Why do you come to me at all?"

"I could not sleep. And I wished to talk to you."

"And what could you wish to talk to me about?"

Erestor sighed. "Do you hate me still then?"

"Still?" the blond asked bemused, "How could I hate you still? I never met you before I came here."

"I see," Erestor said slowly, pushing the image of a green-eyed elfling who had once been his companion from his mind, "Do you still plan to ride with Glorfindel in the morning?"

"I do," Bellmaethorion said decisively, "Why should I not?"

"You do not know what you are up against."

"But you do?" the seneschal asked softly. Staring intently at the barely visible advisor.

"No," Erestor lowered his gaze, "I cannot tell you what it is you're riding towards."  
Sheets rustled. "Why don't you want me to ride tomorrow?"

"Actually I had hoped you might be persuaded to convince Glorfindel to stay."

"Why should I do such a thing?"

"Because I would ask you to."

Silently Bellmaethorion stared at the shadowy silhouette, his mind reeling. "You know something," the seneschal said finally, "What is it you know?"

"I have told you all I can, all I know." Erestor corrected himself, restlessly starting to pace through the room.

"All you can perhaps, but not all you know," Bellmaethorion insisted, "Why are you talking to me instead of Glorfindel if it is him who you are worried about?"

"Because I would not be able to lie to him." the raven-haired advisor admitted reluctantly.

"But you are able to lie to me." It was a statement, not a question.

"Aye, I always have been."

"Councillor?"

"Nothing. Just forget I was here. Forget what I said, it was a foolish idea." waving a dismissive hand at Bellmaethorion Erestor paced some more and the left the chamber as quietly as he had come, no more than a shadow drifting through the sleeping house.

Silent tears slid down Erestor's pale cheeks as he entered the relative safety of his rooms again. Talking to Bellmaethorion had been a mistake. Shivering he wrapped his arms around himself. With the first rays of the morning sun Glorfindel would leave and maybe never return. He could not tell the blond what he knew and Bellmaethorion was as stubborn as he always had been. Still trembling he closed the heavy curtains and forced his tears to subside.

"Nienna," he whispered quietly, "Please grant me the strength to do what is necessary. Help me protect Glorfindel every way I can."

The curtains billowed around him in a tender breeze as though they were reaching for him, trying to comfort him in a silent answer. Reluctantly Erestor curled up on the bed, forcing himself to sleep. He would need all his strange come morning.


	11. Chapter 10

Welcome back Arian! hugs I will start to give some answers soon.

Yes, Gimli and Legolas are always good for some bitching … or comic relief…we'll see what comes of that… hint Thanks for taking the time to review!

Chapter 10

Bellmaethorion had quietly endured the early breakfast in the great hall, all the time toying with the idea of telling Glorfindel about Erestor's visit. How would the seneschal react if he told him that the chief advisor was holding something back that might be vital to ensure their survival on the hunt?

He sighed as he continued to push the food around on his plate. It was almost time to leave and he had not seen Lindir yet. Maybe the minstrel had simply overslept.

"Are you ready to leave?" Glorfindel's voice suddenly invaded his thoughts.

Looking up Bellmaethorion gazed directly into the other seneschal's eyes. "Yes," he said quietly, "I guess I am."

Silently the two blonds rose, making their way through the hall. Bellmaethorion forced himself to ignore Erestor's pleading gaze that seemed to follow his every move.

Glorfindel stopped, gulping as the twins suddenly blocked his path.

"My lords." Glorfindel bowed deeply.

"Glorfindel," Elldadan was the first to speak, his voice strangely flat, "Please take this."  
At his brother's sign Elrohir stepped forward, offering the Eldar a beautifully crafted silver hairclip in the shape of a butterfly.

"This was a present we gave our father the evening before we reached majority. He has often called it one of his most prized possessions."

"We entrust it to you," Elrohir continued, placing the ornament in Glorfindel's hand and closing the blond's fingers around it, "As a token of our trust in you. We trust you with our father's life. And we trust you to kill the creature that took our father from us."

Tears swam in Glorfindel's eyes as the twins stepped aside and Bellmaethorion gently took his arm, leading him out of the silent hall.

Something cold and jagged pressed against him as he slowly returned to consciousness. His head was throbbing with pain and he felt dried tears on his cheeks.

"Well, well, well," Sadjan's voice growled behind him, "Seems my little elf has finally woken again."

"Where…" Elrond croaked, staring into the grey mist that surrounded him.

"Don't worry, your eyesight will return as soon as I want it. If I want it…"

Elrond strained his hearing but Sadjan's voice suddenly seemed to assault him from all directions at once. He could feel the ground beneath his feet shudder slightly as the creature circled around him. A soft breeze ghosted over his naked back and legs. He was only held upright by the rope around his ankles, waist and wrists, his body pressed closely against a massive tree trunk. His legs were spread eagled, unable to support his weight, and his hands had been tied over his head.

"What does it feel like?" Sadjan whispered, "To know that one of your closest confidants betrayed you?"

"You are lying," Elrond grated out, tiredly resting his cheek against the cold trunk, "My friends would never betray me."

He screamed as a sharp pain flared from his left shoulder and over his back to his right hip. "Wha…" he groaned, light exploding before his eyes.

"Oh…" Sadjan cooed, "Doesn't he like my claws? They were hands once, you know. Much like yours. Would you like them on you?"

"No!"

"Face it elf," the creature sneered, "I did not have to venture into your Least Homely House, you were brought to me."

"No…no…"

"Yes." hot, reeking breath washed over Elrond's neck as claws touched him once more in a mock caress.

"I shall enjoy killing you." Sadjan whispered directly into the elf-lord's ear, claws hissing past Elrond's face, who flinched violently.

"You won't dare to kill me," the Peredhel whispered, feeling small droplets of blood run down his back and over his legs, the salty smell stinging his nostrils, "Your master ordered you to keep me alive." He shivered violently as another razor-sharp claw left the next scratch on his back. "You told me so yourself."

The grey fog around him thickened, swallowing even the last few shapes he had almost seen, but he sensed Sadjan's grin, could feel the malice emanating from the creature.

"I lied." Sadjan growled softly, with a quiet finality.

"No…" Elrond tried to shake his head.

"Yes…" sharp talons pierced Elrond's skin again, turning the droplets of blood into a stream of red that warmed the elf's back with waves of pain.

"Your abduction was nothing but a test for my master's servant within your house. I should have killed you in Imladris."

Tears ran down Elrond's cheeks as he tried to shake his head once more, tried to block out the creature's voice.

"I only kept you for sport… and food."

Elrond's eyes widened in shock as Sadjan suddenly pressed against him, enfolding him in his leathery wings.

"But I think I shall have the sport now, before I devour the last of your power."

Elrond's anguished scream echoed unheard through the forest, soon soaked up by tree and leaf.

"Where is Erestor?" Elladan frowned, grasping his twin's hand for support as the stood on the balcony, looking out over the courtyard where Glorfindel, Bellmaethorion and a group of Imladris' archers were readying their mounts for departure.

The sun was already rising, hidden behind heavy clouds that filled the world with a blue-tinted twilight and spoke of impending rain.

"They will find him." Elrohir squeezed his brother's hand reassuringly.

"Aye, but in what condition?"

Neither of the two turned as comforting hands suddenly touched their shoulders.

"You're late." Elladan leaned into Elrohir's and Lindir's touch.

"I did not want to see Bellmaethorion this morn."

"You like him."

"He confuses me.!

"Confusion must not always be bad, Lindir."

"Erestor." Lindir turned, warmly greeting his friend, "We were wondering where you had disappeared to."

"Nowhere special," the advisor said absentmindedly, "I just had to take care of a few things that needed to be done."

The twins nodded simultaneously and together the four elves watched the rescue party depart, Erestor's heart contracting painfully as Glorfindel looked back at him once more.

"Come on, pyn-neth, Lindir," he said, "It will rain soon and I could really do with a cup of tea now."

"Archers!" he yelled, rushing through the corridors with a determined frown, "Guards! Archers! To me at once!"

"Your majesty." one of his advisors scurried out of the great hall, bowing quickly to his king, "I could summon the Royal Guard, tell them to assemble in the courtyard…"

"What are you waiting for then?" he barked, green eyes flashing with impatience, "Do you think I was calling for them just because I felt like yelling?"

"Of course not your majesty, but…"

"Don't talk back!" Thranduil glared at the intimidated advisor, "Begone and summon the Royal Guards!"

"As you wish my liege." with another deep bow the advisor hurried away, leaving the irate woodland king alone once more.

Thranduil's frown deepened as he strode purposefully onwards, concentrating on the presence in his mind.

"By the pricking of my thumbs," e mumbled darkly to himself, "Something wicked this way comes."

Barely a leaf stirred as the big wolf made its way through the dark forest, carefully sniffling the air again and again. Stealthily it moved upon its design, drawn closer by the smell of blood and power and urged on by the strange presence in his mind.

He grinned as he felt new power surge through him. Everything was coming along perfectly. Duathion had even after all those millennia barely been able to put up a fight and had quickly succumbed to his wishes.

A delicious shiver ran through him as even more power flowed to him. Obviously Sadjan was feeding; it had to be him, since the others were still dwelling in Barad-Dûr.

Barak closed his eyes and sent his thoughts out to Sadjan, telling his servant to dispose quietly and discreetly of the elven lord. Elrond had served his purpose and there were others still, whose power rivalled the half elf's.

Humming he strode down the stairs to the dungeons. It was time to feed his newest creation, the youngest of his children. A creation that would have the free people of Middle Earth quaking in their realms, paralysed with fear.

"Attention!"

Thranduil glared briefly at the captain who had given the command but then proceeded to muster the soldiers in front of him.

"Guardians of Mirkwood," he called, pacing up and down in front of the thirty archers and warriors, "Evil has secretly been attacking our lands again."

Some of the soldiers shifted nervously. Eleven years ago Thranduil had decided to help the other elven realms and Gondor to hunt down the last of Sauron's forces and many soldiers of the Royal Guard had lost both, friends and family.

"I have been sensing a new threat for quite some time now," the king continued, "But I could not ascertain who this threat was nor where he worked his evil." he paused, looking some of the soldiers directly into the eye.

"I sense a servant of the new danger, the new evil, very close to our borders, a strong servant of ancient power."

Hushed murmurs accompanied the shuffling of feet as the guards reached for their weapons.

"I still sense where this servant of evil is," Thranduil announced, eyes glittering like emeralds, "And we shall hunt him down!"

A roar of applauding cries echoed through the courtyard, washing over Thranduil.

Silently the king of the woodland realm marched ahead, leading his troop with grim determination.


	12. Chapter 11

Mercury! You really believe me capable of killing my poor, beloved Rondy? sobs Ah well, I might have done that once or twice :P Don't worry, he'll live… this time!

Yeah, I like Thranduil too, even though he has a bi of a temper.

Chapter 11

Elrond's stomach almost emptied as his bounds suddenly disappeared and he fell helplessly to the ground. He was trembling violently, caked in blood and drained of power.

"Why?" he whispered, barely able to form the words with his split lips.

"I told you that I like fun," Sadjan growled, pressing the half-elf to the ground with his body, "I am not through with you yet… your power is very delicious…"

"Please…" Elrond groaned, trying to push himself up but unable to fend Sadjan off, "Why don't you kill me?"

"Because I like to see you suffer."

Elrond gasped as his eyesight suddenly returned to him and Sadjan's bared fangs came into view.

"I shall give you one chance to save your miserable life, elf," the creature growled, lapping playfully at the dried blood on Elrond's lips. "Since your kin is so connected with nature, I shall leave you here. You have until the moon reaches its highest point to save yourself. After that I shall come for you. I shall track and hunt you down."

Elrond moaned, darkness creeping into the periphery of his vision.

"Can't… breathe…" he gasped.

"Never mind," Sadjan lifted himself from the elf in a flutter of dark wings, "If you prefer to stay here till I come and kill you, then that's okay with me, too. Don't disappoint me."

Black mist swirled around the small clearing, enveloping Elrond in its cold and as the wind carried the foggy wisps away the half-elf was alone once more, blood pounding in his ears and slowly seeping from his many injuries, draining even more of his strength.

"Stop squirming!" Legolas chided the dwarf, giving the needle another pull.

"Ouch! I would if you would seem to know what you're doing!"

"I do!"

Gimli winced as Legolas cut the thread, tied a tight knot and continued to sew the wound shut.

"At least you aren't sewing me up with cross-stitches or something." Gimli continued to grumble, earning another death glare from the blond.

"I should leave you to bleed to death," Legolas huffed, tying the last knot with just a little more force than necessary, "That would have been just punishment for acting so foolishly!"

"I did not act foolishly!" Gimli yanked his arm away as soon as Legolas had cut of the thread again.

"Oh yes?" the blond elf glared down at the dwarf, hands on his hips, "What else would you call jumping into the way of an orc blade instead of jumping out of it? It could have been poisoned!"

"Well it wasn't." Gimli tried to look offended but failed miserably due to the fact that he was sitting on a still warm orc corpse.

"Stop pouting." Legolas fired over his shoulder as he turned to stow needle and thread away in his saddlebags.

"Pouting?" Gimli jumped up, wincing but his beard still bristling with indignation, "I will have you know, Master elf, that dwarves do not pout!"

"This one does."

"Not!"

Legolas smirked. "Since the cleverest backs away from a fruitless argument first, I shall leave it at that."

"Impertinent elf!"

"Stupid pouting dwarf!"

"I was not pouting!"

"Well you are now!"

Harrumphing Gimli turned and stalked off into the woods, muttering darkly to himself as he led his horse with his uninjured arm.

With a sigh Legolas rolled his eyes, shook his head and followed the stream of dwarfish obscenities.

Thranduil's eyes bulged from their sockets as his breath was suddenly knocked out of him. Panting heavily he crashed to the ground, staying there till the sharp pain in his back subsided.

A cold nose nudged his left cheek, closely followed by a warm tongue.

"Ugh." Thranduil groaned, his eyes burning as the smell of rotten meat and decay washed over him. "Just a moment," he mumbled, closing his eyes, "Just let me rest for a while."  
With a growl his side was poked insistently and the tongue returned again.

"Very well." Thranduil moaned exasperatedly and pushed himself into a sitting position. "You know," he said, staring into the strangely intelligent yellow eyes next to him, "This is not a good moment."

The wolf growled once more, cocking his head as though he had understood every word.

The animal was large and strong, no more than two years old. Thranduil knew him and knew that he was no threat, had in fact often used the wolf to spirit-travel through his realm. Gulping Thranduil looked around, taking in his surroundings for the first time since he had fallen. His sword arm hurt and his sword had shattered after he had stabbed the black creature with it. The creature had screamed in rage and pain as Thranduil had stumbled backwards, out of the reach of the deadly talons. The air around the creature had rippled and curled, taken on a strange dark glow and exploded in a series of black blasts.

Four of his best warriors lay unmoving in the ground, their faces twisted into masks of sheer terror and the blood from their wounds still saturating the damp forest soil.

"How long was I gone?" mumbled Thranduil, burying his hand in the thick fur of the animal's neck. There was no sign of his troop except for the dead. Shakily he called his second-in-command but received no answer, not even the usual scurrying of frightened animal feet and screeching of birds.

Still panting he briefly called on the ancient power of the Eldar and briefly merged his mind with the wolf's, becoming part of the animal's thoughts and sharing his memories.

Still no clue as to where the rest of his troop was. Thranduil closed his eyes, slowly separated himself from the wolf and waited till the pain in his head had dimmed to an uncomfortable throbbing. He frowned. His senses were still mingled with the wolf's and his hearing and smelling was keener than ever and he had managed to pick up a faint scent on the wind. Blood. Weakness. Power unleashed.

Growling softly the blond elf rose from the ground, quizzically sniffling the air. Silently he leapt off into the forest, closely followed by the growling wolf.

It had been raining steadily almost all day, a heavy downpour of grey beads of water that soon managed to get through their cloaks and now dripped under their armour, soaking them to the skin.

Bellmaethorion had had no difficulty with leading them to the small clearing where he had found the tracks and sensed the evil presence but the rain had washed all recognizable tracks away and slowly but steadily turned the damp soil into a blanket of mud that covered every open in on the ground.

Glorfindel tried to huddle deeper into the shelter of his cloak with every passing minute but to no avail. Now, as they were finally making camp for the night, the blond was still soaked to the skin without any hope of getting dry in the near future.

The elves had collected fallen twigs and branches and built an at least almost dry shelter by tying thick beams to the trees about one and a half metres above the ground. Other branches had been laid onto them with one end and with the other on the ground and the space in between had been filled with fir branches so that the needles kept at least part of the rain at bay.

Glorfindel frowned as he raided his saddle bags in search of something edible. A small black book, well-used by the look of it, fell into his hands. He inched closer to the fire one of the archers had managed to get going and leafed through it. The book was leather-bound and appeared to be a journal of some sorts, filled with the crude letters of the common tongue and some small drawings.

The seneschal froze as a certain image caught his eye. Watercolours had quickly caught the image of a black creature walking on three-fingered claws. Even the face was black but if one dared to imagine what it must look like without the red eyes, the creature looked uncomfortably elven. Black wings spread from its shoulders, reaching down to its knees but what disturbed Glorfindel the most was the midnight black hair that framed the creature's face. The hair seemed almost raven.

"Bellmaethorion?" he asked, slowly making out the letters beneath the picture, "What do you think of this?"

"I sense no evil on the book." Thranduil's seneschal said after kneeling down beside Glorfindel and staring at the book for quite some time.

"Nor do I," Glorfindel agreed, "But look what it says here: Sadjan, as he became after the dark one's servant twisted him."

"If that is the creature we are following…" Bellmaethorion thought aloud.

"Yes?"

"He must be old, very old indeed. Sauron is dead and the book is very old so "the dark one" probably refers to Melkor and the servant in question was Sauron. Where did you get that book?"

"I don't know," Glorfindel shrugged as the other frowned, "I found it in my saddle bags."

"But you did not put it there."

"No. What?" Glorfindel asked, noticing the unreadable emotion that played briefly over Bellmaethorion's face.

"Nothing." Thranduil's seneschal shook his head. "I should like to know who hid the book in your bags. Is there any other useful information in there?"

"I don't know," Glorfindel pointed out, "I haven't read it yet."

"Perhaps you should, seneschal. Who ever put that book into your saddle bags clearly intended you to have it. You should read it while there is still light in the sky."  
Glorfindel's suspicious gaze followed Bellmaethorion through the camp. He could not quite put his finger on it but he sense that the Mirkwood elf knew more than he admitted to.


	13. Chapter 12

tadaa one found Elrond for you mercury! If your review was random, then I like random reviews! Unfortunately Bellmaethorion has not told me yet what he is up to 

No, I've submitted to LoM but so far my stories have never been update. I've posted some stories on Mirrormere but only RPSlash and under another name.

You are right Arian, I love being evil! It makes the stories so much more interesting.

hugs both of you thanks again!

Chapter 12

Thranduil's eyes widened as the wolf stopped with a deep growl. The hairs on the animal's neck had risen, indicating that danger lay ahead. Breathing shallowly Thranduil slowly made his way through the thicket, listening for any unusual sound. The quiet was eerie. No bird nor any other creature of the wild was to be heard.

"What is it, mellon-amin?" he whispered as the wolf's growl deepened. The bushes opened and Thranduil's stomach did a few turns as he stared incredulously at the sight before him.

Blood seemed to be everywhere and the Mirkwood king was almost sure that there were some bits of torn-off skin on the grass. In the middle of the mess lay the battered remnants of an elf. He was tall and slender and bloody dark hair fanned out around him.

Thranduil quelled the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach and forced his gaze to travel over the elf's body. His back was ripped to pieces and where claws seemed to have dug extremely deep bits of skin were missing and in some places even bones were showing.

"What creature does such a thing?" Thranduil whispered to himself as he stepped onto the blood sullied ground, "And who are you?"

Bile rose in his throat once more as the elf's back shuddered, a torn mass of flesh moving with a labouring breath. The elf was still alive.

He knew he should have rested but the soft glow of the dawning day found him still wide awake and staring off into the forest, He had spent all night reading the journal, sometimes pausing for quite some time, unable to take yet more of the horror concealed within the pages.

"Glorfindel?" he did not turn around. "We have to ride soon?"

"And ride where, Bellmaethorion?" Glorfindel asked, slowly rising from the ground, shaking leaves and twigs out of his cloak, "We have no trail, we have no idea where the creature may have gone to and we do not even know if Elrond is still alive."

"It's not like you to give up so easily," Bellmaethorion said quietly, "The twins placed their trust in you."

"You are right," Glorfindel smiled sadly, "We should go on."

Bellmaethorion hid his smile with a bow. "Did you read the journal?"

"Aye, I did."

"And?"

"It seems to have been written by an adult though the memories mentioned seem to be those of an elfling."

"Is there anything useful in there?"

"Yes, but it's quite horrible."

"What kind of memories?" Bellmaethorion asked suddenly.

"Memories from the time when Melkor was twisting elves into the first orcs… and other things," Glorfindel shook his head, "And no, I will nit give you details. They are too… awful."

Bellmaethorion blanched. "And Sadjan? Was there more information about him."

"Yes."

"You are not exactly talkative."

"It seems that the writer of the journal knew Sadjan personally before he was turned. He wrote that Sadjan feeds on magic and,"

"Wasn't Elrond wearing Vilya when he managed?"

"Is really quite strong," Glorfindel continued, ignoring Bellmaethorion's interruption, "His strength may very well rival that of a Nazgûl and he is also more intelligent than the other servants of the dark lord were."

"Then our foe is formidable indeed." Bellmaethorion mumbled, turning to ready his horse.

"Aye, he must be." Glorfindel mumbled, tucking the book into his tunic. He needed some time to think a few things through but now was not the time for contemplation. In the meantime it was imperative that he did not lose the book.

"Erestor?" Elladan gently placed his hand on the advisor's, "Is everything alright? You seem to be quite distracted."

"'tis nothing, pen-neth" Erestor forced himself to smile, "I am merely hoping for Glorfindel to return safely."

"Do not worry, meldir," Elrohir smiled at the two around a mouthful of cheese, "Glorfindel is a more than capable warrior. He will return."

Lindir lowered his gaze, staring at his plate in silence.

"Lindir?" Elrohir frowned, "Will you accompany me to the Bruinen today?"

"The Bruinen, my lord?" Lindir sputtered, almost choking on his breakfast, "But why?"

"I have to visit a certain place there," Elrohir quickly glanced at his twin before turning his attention back to the minstrel, "And I thought that you might be of assistance to me."

"Of course, my lord," Lindir bowed his head again, "As you wish."

Erestor's frown at this answer mirrored the twins'. Lindir was acting very strangely lately.

Erestor sighed with obvious relief as the door to his library closed and Elladan was finally gone. A muffled knock echoed through the corridors of bookshelves as he let his head fall onto the table. He was getting too old for this. Sighing he sat up once more, pondering what to do.

Lindir and Elrohir had departed for the Bruinen immediately after breakfast, Elladan had just decided to spar with the guards and the other advisors and librarians had avoided his study ever since Elrond had disappeared. He had to know that Glorfindel was safe but there was always the possibility of Barak intercepting him if he gave in to the other.

"Ai, Elbereth," he grumbled, "What am I to do?"

Agitatedly he paced through the room, every now and then pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh very well!" he muttered, throwing his hands up in defeat as he talked to himself. An occasional "I must be crazy" interrupted the string of dwarfish curses that poured from him.

Slowly he sank to his knees in front of the fireplace, digging his fingers deep into the furs beneath him. It was dangerous but he had to do something.

_The walls of Imladris flew past him and soon gave way to the surrounding forests. He morphed into mist once more as he ghosted through the thicket, for the first time in over an age deciding to use his power. It was easy to follow the tracks left by the seneschals and the archers and he soon caught up with them, lingering nearby as he finally decided on a course of action._

_As long as he was in mist form his true body remained in Imladris, but as soon as he took on a more solid form the library in the Last Homely House would be empty. As mist, however, he was incapable of making sure that Glorfindel and the others chose the right path._

_With a resigned sigh he floated a few paces away so that the rescue party would not notice him. Groaning inwardly Erestor took on solid form._

Glorfindel frowned, reining his horse as the air around him changed. Within seconds the temperature had dropped several degrees.

"What is this?" whispered Bellmaethorion, shivers running down his spine.

"I don't know." Glorfindel hissed back, his sword glittering in the morning sun as he rode around the group of archers.

"Lord Glorfindel?" the youngest of the archers whispered, "Over there!"

Mist hovered between the trees, blocking out the still damp morning sun. A figure took shape in the fog, slowly stepping from the grey clouds. Leathery wings brushed over whispering leaves as the creature seemed to glide towards them, the mist clinging to its black skin as though it was loath to part from the figure.

"What?" gasped Bellmaethorion but Glorfindel had recognised the creature at once. His left hand wandered to the book under his tunic. Only yesterday evening had he seen exactly this creature, drawn with watercolours.

_He slumped forward with a pained sigh as he projected his body back into the library, forcing himself to let go of the other form. Wings and talons slowly vanished, replaced with slender elven shoulders and hands. For some moments he stood still, shivering and almost translucent, neither here nor there. He was back. Back home._

Galadriel kept on glancing around nervously every now and then as she descended the steps to her mirror. She knew that Celeborn would not approve but she had the uncanny feeling that the mirror was trying to tell her something. Something important. She had to know. With trembling hands she poured water into the silver bowl, waiting for the ripples on the water to vanish before leaning over it. Mist rose from the clear liquid, obscuring the bowl but quickly clearing away, leaving her to stare helplessly at the images in the mirror.

Legolas and Gimli were sitting on a battlefield, laughing and joking amidst fallen orcs.

The scene changed and now she saw the two riding towards Minas Tirith, hands entangled as if they were trying to draw strength from one another. Celeborn greeted the two and she frowned, wondering if she would see herself as well.

Suddenly she saw Aragorn giving a speech, obviously to start some celebrations or a feast.

Galadriel gasped as the scene changed once more, her face now only centimetres from the water. She saw the great hall of the White City; Aragorn was sitting on the Steward's throne and one could almost believe that he was sleeping if it had not been for the blood. He was deathly pale, drained with blood loss, as were the others in the room. Galadriel groaned as faces flashed over the water. Arwen. Celeborn. Faramir. Elladan and Elrohir. Glorfindel. Thranduil and his seneschal.

"All dead…" she whispered, eyes widening as a new picture appeared. Legolas and Gimli huddling into a corner of the room where the corpses lay. Their eyes were wide and their hands and weapons covered with blood.

"No…" her voice was no more than a breath, "No…"

The water in the bowl rippled once more. Showing her yet another image. An elf, bruised and battered, lying on the ground, seeming more dead than alive. She covered her mouth in shock as the injured elf tried to lift his head. Elrond.

The next thing she saw was a black, winged creature carrying Elrond through the night and then the half elf tied to a tree, the creature's talons ripping into his prisoner.

The last thing she saw before the mirror turned blind again was Erestor in the library of Imladris, shining with an eerie glow and then changing forms. Black wings grew from his shoulders and his hands sharpened into talons.

Galadriel staggered backwards as red eyes suddenly seemed to glare right back at her. A strangled moan rose from her lips as she fell, the world around her fading.

It was so that Celeborn found her, curled up into a foetal position, hair fanned out around her and her face almost as white as her gown.


	14. Chapter 13

Do you by any chance know the title of that story, mercury? It has been ages since I last read something at LoM. Galadriel will make more sense the farther the story goes along (I hope). I am also posting this at the LoM-livejournal community (http/ if that is easier to keep track of. Once again, thanks!

Chapter 13

The world was spinning around her as she finally woke again. Gold and red flashes obscured her vision, making at impossible to see more than silhouettes moving behind them.

"Celeborn?" she asked weakly, her voice old and tired, "Are you there?"

Whispers roared through the air, surrounding her with the flapping of countless wings.

"Celeborn!" she yelled, sitting up as black, leathery wings obscured the flashes of colour, "Celeborn!"

"He cannot hear you now," a harsh voice whispered, swirling around her on the wind, "No one can hear you now."

"Who are you?" Galadriel demanded, reaching out into the wind and darkness around her, "Where are you?"

"Stupid she-elf!" the voice barked, "So many useless questions at once."

"Answer me!" Galadriel turned, trying to figure out where the other was, "What do you want from me?"

Harsh laughter answered her. "From you? Nothing. At least not yet," the cruel voice added, "I only wish to warn you."

"Warn me? Why?" Galadriel screamed as an invisible force pushed her off her feet, throwing her into a free fall through complete darkness.

"Don't use your mirror!" the voice called after her, "Stay away from it!"

Galadriel screamed as her fall changed and another voice called out to her, urged her to return to the light. With a pained gasp she sat up, hand pressed against her chest and sweat running from her brow.

"Galadriel!" Celeborn grabbed her shoulders, trying to keep her from shaking, "Galadriel, please listen to me! Come back!"

"I am back," she rasped put, clutching the sweat-soaked sheets to her close, "I am back," she whispered again, tears streaming down her face as the images she had seen in the mirror replayed themselves over and over gain in her mind.

"What happened?" Celeborn asked softly, the bed creaking under his weight.

"The mirror.. showed me something," Galadriel sobbed, "Something terrible will happen."

"The future is never set in stone," Celeborn hugged his wife close, breathing a sigh of relief as her sobbing grew softer, "If what you saw has not come to pass yet, we are still able to prevent it from happening."

"No," Galadriel shook her head, "The mirror didn't show me how. We cannot stop this."

"What did you see?"

"Please," Galadriel put her hands over Celeborn's, looking up at him from wide, tear-stained eyes, "If you love me, if you trust me, don't ask me again."

Celeborn stared at her from questioning silver eyes and finally nodded.

"Aragorn!" Legolas laughed, rushing forward to bury his friend in a hug, "It is so good to see you again!"

"It has been too long since I saw you last," Aragorn agreed, pressing the elf close before stepping back and greeting Gimli in the same fashion. He frowned as the dwarf winced. "Are you injured? What happened?"

"Nothing," grumbled Gimli, ignoring the worry in his friend's eyes, "We have travelled far to see you, do you have something to eat for some old friends?"

"I do," Aragorn grinned, "Follow me to the library. Would you like something to drink as well?"

"Maltbeer!" chorused Legolas and Gimli, stunning Aragorn into a perplexed frown.

Glorfindel felt as though a great burden had just been taken off his shoulders as Imladris finally came into view again. It had not been the first time that he had stayed away from his home for weeks, but he had never been more happy to return.

"Erestor," he mumbled darkly, scanning the many bridges, "Where are you?"

"Is something wrong?" Bellmaethorion asked, letting his horse fall into step with Asfaloth.

"No," the Eldar almost growled, eyeing the blond from under lowered lashes. The time he had been forced to spent with the other seneschal had only strengthened his initial dislike of the elf.

"What do you intend to do now?" Glorfindel cursed silently. It seemed Bellmaethorion never tired of asking questions.

"Report to the twins, of course," Glorfindel jumped from Asfaloth's back, "They have every right to be the first to read the message."  
"And the journal?"

"Maybe that as well," Glorfindel frowned, "Though I am not sure about that yet."

"What is it, melme?" Celeborn asked, taking a step towards his bonded wife, "You are brooding again."

"I still don't know," Galadriel sighed, a tear slipping from her eye, "'tis all so confusing. I don't know what to think anymore."

"And you think that the mirror can help?" Celeborn took the jug with water from Galadriel's hands, placing it next to the mirror again.

"I wish I did," Galadriel sat down on the stone steps, "But I just don't know. I don't know why the mirror is still working, I don't know why it chooses to show me certain things and I don't know why the voice in my nightmare told me to stay away from the mirror."

"Whose voice?"

"I don't know. Nothing makes sense anymore."

"Then let it rest," Celeborn begged, "Let the mirror be and come back with me to our talan. Please?"

"Very well," Galadriel nodded, "Perhaps we should sail:"

"Would you mind telling me," Aragorn glanced pointedly at the mug in Legolas' hands, "When elves started liking maltbeer?"

"Believe me, the stuff grows on you after a while," Legolas laughed, "You just can't get away from it when travelling with a dwarf. It has been long since I drank anything else than water or maltbeer. Tell me, dear friend, how is Arwen doing?"

"She is well," Aragorn stared into the flames dancing in the fireplace, "Though I fear I spend too much time ruling my realm."  
Legolas raised his eyebrows. "Surely Faramir could take some of your responsibilities from you? He seemed intelligent enough when I saw him last."

"He already does," Aragorn sighed, "And yet…"

"Aragorn!" the doors flew open, allowing Gimli back inside, "A nice castle but you could have, you know, had professionally do the stonework."

"So glad you approve," Aragorn commented dryly, "Maybe I can make it up with a mug of malt beer?"

"You can indeed!" A broad smile lit Gimli's face as he sat down in the only armchair in the room, "So my lord," he addressed Aragorn, "How have you been doing the last ten years? I would not have thought it possible but your letters convey even less information than Legolas'."

Aragorn shrugged, "Ruling is a lot of work."

"Legolas is never too busy to write to an old friend." Gimli huffed, busying himself with his beer. Aragorn raised an eyebrow at Legolas, who tried to look as though nothing had been said.

"Anyone else coming for the celebrations?" the elf asked innocently.

Aragorn shook his head, "I received no reply from any of the other realms, except for Rohan, but I expect that at least my foster father will be visiting."

"As he should," foam dripped from Gimli's beard, "As he should."

A relived shout of "Glorfindel!" was all the Eldar heard before he found himself with an armful of happy advisor.

"Erestor," the blond smiled, hugging the raven-haired elf close and breathing in the other scent.

"I'm so glad you're back." the advisor's muffled voice said from his chest, where Erestor was burying his head into Glorfindel's shoulder.

"As am I, lirimaer," (lovely one) Glorfindel's blue eyes sparkled happily, "I though of you every day."

Erestor flinched and slowly disentangled himself from Glorfindel's arms, a faint blush colouring his usually pale cheeks.

"The twins have been waiting for you," he said, quickly scanning the group of travel-worn elves, "Elrond is not with you?"

"No," Glorfindel's face darkened, "But I bring news of him."

"He is alive then?" Lindir asked, taking his usual place at Erestor's left.

"aye, he is," Glorfindel's eyes narrowed as he noticed that the minstrel was holding Bellmaethorion's hand, "But it would not be fair if the twins were the last to hear that."


	15. Chapter 14

Thanks a lot Mercury! I'm sorry for the long delay but I just started working and am almost dead on my feet after my shifts. Plus, there's only one internet-café in the city I'm living in now. I'll try to update as often as possible!

Elrond once more finds himself in strange company, the twins try to discuss a problem and Gimli fears what Legolas may do...

Chapter 14

Pain ebbed through his body in small but insistent waves as he drifted in and out of consciousness. His whole body seemed to be alight with pain, burning with flames of torment. Why had he not been killed yet? What had stopped Sadjan?

Elrond shivered, groaning as new waves of pain spiralled through his abused back.

"Don't move," a smooth voice told him as he tried to raise his head, "You would tear the wounds open again and I don't want you dying on me now that your family knows you are here."

"My family?" Elrond croaked, his voice muffled by the pillow. Pillow? Storm-grey eyes widened in wonder. Where was he? Muted sunlight streamed into the room, barely reaching the bed he was lying in. Room? Bed? Elrond tried to glare through the strange light but the only thing he could see was a grey stone wall covered with green tapestries.

"Your family," the haughty voice behind him repeated, "I sent them a messenger to inform them of your condition and whereabouts. They should have received the message by now."

"Message?"

"Yes, message."

Elrond yelped as something cold and wet suddenly touched his back but relaxed as soon as he noticed that the stranger was only washing him.

"I'm only cleaning the wounds," the stranger continued, "I knew that you Noldo never had much of a brain to start with but you surely seem to have lost the last few braincells you had."

"Who?" Elrond managed to ask, almost sputtering with outrage. He wanted to turn around, to finally be able to see the one who was tending to his wounds and insulting him at the same time but his muscles refused to obey.

"What Rondy?" the voice was dripping with amused sarcasm, "Have you forgotten me?"

Elrond winced at the old nickname, once more trying to turn around.

"Didn't I tell you to stop moving? You surely seem to be intent on hurting yourself."

Elrond could almost hear the other elf, if it was an elf, frown. He relaxed gradually as the wet cold numbed the pain in his back. He was sure that he had heard the voice before and who ever was taking care of him certainly knew him.

"He's quite good," Legolas remarked as he and Aragorn stepped out into the sunlight, "Almost remarkably so for a human his age."

"He is indeed," Aragorn seemed to grow a few inches, his gaze lingering proudly on his son, who was sparring with Gimli, "I want him to have the best teachers available."

Steel clanked against steel as the boy and the dwarf fought, wearily circling each other. Aragorn grinned as his son suddenly went through a complicated series of moves, seemingly attacking his opponent with a low-swung strike at his left side, dodging Gimli's blow, the sword flirring to his right shoulder. He turned, sword still raised, as he shifted his weight to his left foor, kicking the dwarf with his right boot and bringing his sword around to Gimli's throat as the dwarf stumbled.

His disappointment was evident as Gimli managed to block the blow just in time.

"Well done, Eldarion!" The boy's face lit up with a smile as he turned around.

"Adar! Did you see? I almost defeated uncle Gimli!"

Aragorn grinned and nodded at Gimli, knowing that the dwarf had wanted his son to win. "I am proud of you, my son," he ruffled the boy's dark hair, "Now go in, clean yourself and tell your mother that we'll see her at dinner."

"A fine lad," Gimli commented as he cleaned his sword, "Tad on the reckless side, though. That turn left his back wide open for attack."

"It would have if he hadn't kicked you," Legolas corrected, "He was winning."

"Winning? My dear master elf, you must have your eyes examined!"

"Not at all," the elf laughed, "You must work on your battle skills!"

"Why you…"  
"Enough!" Aragorn interjected, dreading what could happen, "Gimli, please put that sword away and Legolas, give him his tunic back. Honestly, you two are worse than children. The only thing that's missing is sticking your tongues out at each other."

Both of his friends mumbled something unintelligible as Aragorn finally led them back into the castle. The king choose to ignore the muffled remarks from behind. Nothing was worse than thinking about the two sticking their tongues down each other's throat. Their constant bantering and teasing was bad enogh.

"And please do me a favour," Aragorn said as they reached the great hall, "Behave in front of Arwen, I beg you."

Somehow his friends' identical grins were not even remotely reassuring.

Elrond had been awake for quite some time again, staring at the tapestries and trying to figure out who had been caring for him earlier. He knew the voice, he was sure of it.

"What happened?" the half elf asked as soon as he felt the other's presence return to the room, licking his dry lips.

"I had hoped that you would be able to tell me that," water splashed, "What were you doing so close to Mirkwood? And alone, no less! One could begin to doubt that you ever had a brain in that thick skull of yours!"

Mirkwood? He was in Mirkwood? His eyes widened. "Thranduil?" he gasped, flinching from the hand on his neck.

"Lie still," the now only too well-known voice said, "I'm just trying to help you."

"Am I… badly injured?" His breath was ragged as he rememberd flirring talons and wings.  
"Not at all," Elrond winced at the sarcasm, "Only more dead than alive." Thranduil sighed. "I gave you something to ease the pain but the effects will wear off soon, I'm afraid."

Cold air hit Elrond's skin as Thranduil finished what ever he had been doing. "I'm sorry," the woodland king patted his hair, "I cannot pull the covers over you, your back is too torn for that."

Elrond stared helpessly as brown leggins walked into view, soon followed by a simple green tunic. "Drink this," Thranduil's face was now level with his and determined fingers lifted Elrond's head, pressing a cup to the per-edhel's lips, "You need the liquid."

"Gulp after gulp fought its way down Elrond's throat, burning and choking him.

"It will soon be easier," Thranduil forced him to take another sip, "It's a painkilling potion."

"P..pain…"

"Yes, I know," the blond sighed exasperatedly, "Drink it. Even you should understand that painkillers help against pain."

Elrond tried to glare at Thranduil, forcing himself to continue swallowing the foul-tasting concoction the Mirkwood king was forcing down his throat.

"El'hir?" someone asked, "Is everything alright?" Elrohir shook his head, leaning back into the opened arms behind him. For a while they stood in silence, drawing strength from each other as they looked down over the river and the garden.

"When do you think?" Elrohir asked finally, heaving a contented sigh as his brother absentmindedly stroked his hair.

"He has to heal first, melme," Elladan wrapped his arms around his twin's wait and rested his chin on Elrohir's shoulder, "Thranduil wrote that he had been severly injured."

"But what if?"

"He wouldn't," Elladan assured him, "Thranduil may hate the Noldor but he would not turn his back on an injured elf."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. Just think of Legolas. Thranduil raised him and he didn't turn out that bad, did he?"

Elrohir chuckled. "Indeed, he did not. Do you think the two will ever get anywhere?"

"Bellmaethorion and Lindir?" Elladan followed Elrohir's glance to the garden, "No, Glorfindel would kill him if he ever tried to kiss Lindir."

"Why is he still here? Didn't he claim to be looking for Legolas?"

"Because of Lindir?"

Elrohir shook his head, sighing, "Lindir may be considered beautiful but would Bellmaethorion disobey his king's orders to be with him?"

"He seems to. But then…"

"Then what? Go on!" Elrohir nudged his twin, "Tell me!"

"Bellmaethorion wouldn't need to fear Thranduil's wrath if he stayed in Imladris…"

"Here?" Elrohir squealed, "Valar, no! Glorfindel would never stop growling!"

"He truly seems to have discovered his animal part," Elladan grinned, "I wonder if Erestor managed to enjoy that part already."

"Elladan!"

"Didn't you notice? I'm beginning to think that they must have been joined at the hips somehow since Glorfindel returned. Look!" he pointed at the garden, "Bellmaethorion is even giving Lindir flowers!"

"And roses on top of all," Elrohir shuddered, "If things really continue this way we might have to get used to his presence."

"There's something else I'd rather get used to right now," Elladan purred, pressing closer to his twin, "Something that might require a bed…"

"Really?" Elrohir shiverd as Elladan's arousal pressed against his robes, "I wonder what that might be…" small kisses were planted on his neck in time with the hand stroking him.

"Let's go," Elladan whispered with a last glance out of the window, "They've managed weeks without Glorfindel killing or maiming Bellmaethorion, they'll manage the rest of the day."

Elrohir agreed full-heartedly.

"Humans," Gimli grumbled, shaking his head as he kicked the door to his guestchamber shut, "No appreciation for the beauty of stonework. At least the festivities will start tomorrow," he told the empty room, as he began to ready himself for bed, "Might even take my mind off the antics of a certain elf."

He shook his head again as he shrugged on his nightshirt. "I wonder what that pointy-eared menace is up to this time. He was definitely plotting something. And of course," he glared at the mirror over the broad desk, "He'll expect me to bail him out of what ever trouble he'll get himself into again. But not this time!" he vowed, lighting the candle on the nightstand, "This time I'll finally leave him to suffer the results of his actions!"

Just as Gimli climbed into bed two plans were set into motion in another part of the castle. Shadowy figures and a cloud of dark-grey mist crept through darkened corridors.

It was obviously night or evening as he woke again. A single torch was the only source of light in his room. The strange taste in his mouth made him toy with the thought of having chewed on a robe that had been worn for weeks. At least the pain was still gone. What ever potion Thranduil had forced him to drink had not been a mere painkiller; it must have contained a sleeping draught as well. He frowned as he suddenly became aware of another presence in the room.

"Thranduil?" Robes rustled behind him, soon accompanied by a few uncertain steps and a stutter.

"No… no, not Thranduil, milord," an unknown voice babbled, "I'll go and fetch him… he wanted to be informed as soon as you woke again."

Elrond thought about this for a moment but as he decided to tell the other that there was no need to gete Thranduil he was already alone again. He knew very well that the woodland king did not like him but at least he seemed to care whether he lived or died. He sighed, already tired of waiting. It was beginning, maybe even something to build on.

"Elrond," Thranduil stated politely as he entered, at once checking the dressings on the half elf's wounds, "I am surprised to see you awake again."

"Who made it?" Thranduil's fingers on his back froze.

"Who made what?"

"The potion," Elörond clarified, "I never managed a potion that acted as a painkiller and a sleeping draught."

"Ah." Thranduil resumed his inspections of Elrond's back.

"Could I speak to the one of your healers who developed it?"

"Maybe," Thranduil said carefully, "I'll have to think about it. What happened?"

"Happened?"

"What brought you to Mirkwood? And don't you dare parrot my question!"

"I think I was abducted," Elrond said slowly, "I was in my study when suddenly everything went black. When I woke again Sadjan was already carrying me and…"

"Sadjan?" interrupted Thranduil, "Who is Sadjan?"

"I don't know who or what he is," Elrond sighed, "He was… black… tall… and,"

"Had bat-like wings with very sharp talons," Thranduil finished.

"How do you know?"

"I killed him."

"So that's why he didn't kill me," Elrond whispered, "I wondered."  
"Do you know why he abducted you?"

"He only said that his master wanted me," pain flitted across Elrond's face, "He also said that someone in Imladris had betrayed me… had brought me to him…"

Thranduil remained silent and brought another goblet to Elrond's lips instead. "Drink," he said, "It'll help.


	16. Chapter 15

Thanks Mary and Mercury! We..ell that Gimli and Legolas could be a couple is what Aragorn thinks… we'll have to wait what the two say to that… as for Thranduil and Elrond, I did have something in mind. eg

Chapter 15

Aragorn sighed, barely resisting the urge to knock his head onto the table. Tiredly he rubbed his eyes. The few torches and the single candle he had lit were barely sufficient to light the room. Legolas and Gimli had already retired to bed. Of course his two friends had insisted on separate rooms, claiming that the weeks they had spent on the road had been too much closeness for them. He could not make up his mind whether the two were just putting on an act or really sis not realize that they could be more than friends. He sighed again. They were probably too thick-headed to notice it, which was rather good considering how Thranduil would take to the news of his son bonding with a dwarf. He had gone to his study after dinner, knowing that some correspondence was still waiting for him. It was not much work but it still had to be done and the letters waiting for him were those he preferred to take care of himself rather than simply signing them over to Faramir and he needed some time to think on the appropriate responses.

He wondered briefly if Arwen would already be asleep. Even after ten years of marriage she sometimes choose to wait up on him when he decided to spend the evening with his work instead of joining her in bed. Again he rubbed his eyes, blinking furiously as he noticed the grey mist welling up from beneath the door. With wide grey eyes he stared as a black figure slowly took shape on the other side of his desk.

At the same time two figures were moving through a corridor, heading straight for one of the guest chambers. They moved without light, their hands travelling over the walls as the sought their way with the smaller figure leading the other around the corners with grim determination.

The heavy chair clattered to the floor and he forced himself not to hoot with contemptuous laughter as the human in front of him backed up against the wall, seeming helpless and forlorn in spite of the sword in his hands.

"What are you?" the pitiful creature in front of him croaked, raising his sword, "What brings you here?"

Black wings flexed as he laughed silently at the defiant man in front of him.

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn," he bellowed, casually disarming the man with a flick of his hands, "I have been sent to you with a message from my master..."

Gimli was still sleeping, his constant snoring echoing through the chamber as two shadows, one tall and one small, silently sneaked out of his quarters. Only a few things had been changed within the room and some things had been added. A surprise awaited the dwarf's awakening.

Aragorn tore his gaze away from his lost sword and stared helplessly at the black, demon-like creature in front of him. "A message?" he repeated, gasping as the black figure started to blur. Black wings folded, seemingly melting back into suddenly slender black shoulders. A strangled sound came over Aragorn's lips as he stared at the elf who had suddenly taken the creature's place.

"Listen closely, human," the elf's dark eyes were as hard and cold as obsidian, "My master never repeats a message."

Aragorn nodded mutely, unable to move while the pale elf stalked around the table. "My master knows how much you feel for your wife and your kingdom," Aragorn's eyes narrowed somewhat at the mentioning of Arwen, "And he is willing to sign a treaty with you." A parchment appeared on the table.

"What?"

The elf smiled, just like he had always done when Aragorn had failed to copy a scroll correctly. "My master guaranties not to attack Gondor if you agree to give him what he wants."

Aragorn shook his head, still unable to understand what was happening. "Erestor?" he asked, slowly taking a step away from the wall, "Who is this master? Is this a message from Elrond?"

Elegant eyebrows arched. "Are you willing to pay the price for the safety of your realm?"

Aragorn barely managed to get the words over his lips. "What price?"

"Eldarion."

"Eldarion?" the king repeated, his eyes wider than ever before, "You want my son?"

"Glorfindel," Erestor looked up, almost smiling as he acknowledged the blond's presence, "Which twist of fate brings you to my library?"

A growl escaped the Eldar's lips. "Bellmaethorion."

Erestor sighed, moving a stack of parchments to the other side of his desk, "What has he done this time?"

"Nothing," the door slammed shut, "Everything. Why is he still here?"

"Maybe you should ask him," Erestor quickly crossed the room, leading Glorfindel out of the library before the blond could notice the tray with his untouched breakfast, "Bellmaethorion has not told me what his plans are and I cannot just throw him out of Imladris without a reason."

"He's keeping secrets from us Erestor," Glorfindel shook his head, "Important secrets, I can feel it. Where are we going?"

The advisor shrugged. "I know that you always try to listen to your feelings but they aren't always right and you know that."

"I am certain," Glorfindel insisted, "The feeling is too strong." Calloused hands entwined with Erestor's. "Have dinner with me?"

"Dinner?" Erestor repeated, startled by the sudden change of subject.

"Yes," Glorfindel's thumb caressed the palm of his hand, "And please don't tell me you're not hungry. I know that you haven't eaten anything today."

Erestor stopped. "How?" He frowned.

Blue eyes glared indignantly at him. "I am not blind, councillor. And I know your habits by now. You never eat anything when you're alone."

Erestor's frown deepened. He hated being predictable.

"You haven't answered my question." Glorfindel suddenly reminded him.

"What question?"

"Will you have dinner with me?"

"I think I might."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, frowning as the hand on his back stilled.

"Why am I doing what?"  
"Why are you taking care of me?" Elrond clarified, "You once swore to kill any Noldo who set foot into your realm."

"I spoke in anger," Thranduil continued to rub a salve onto the per edhel's wounds, releasing the smell of Athelas into the room, "As we all do from time to time. I am no kin-slayer."

"I'm sorry," Elrond could almost feel the other frown, "I meant no offence."

"None taken. Your wounds are healing nicely," the woodland king commented, "No inflammations so far."

"How long till I'll be able to sit up again?"

"You should stay on your stomach for at least another week or so."

"Only a week?"

"Yes." Thranduil put something onto a table and pulled a light blanket over the half-elf's naked form.

"Your healers must be very talented."

"I guess they are. How is the pain?"

"It is bearable right now."

"Good." Elrond raised his head as the door opened again, already used to the daily routine.

"Laepselin will feed you," Thranduil said, "I would like to talk about Sadjan again this evening if you feel up to it."

"I do," Elrond answered just as carefully, "Though I already told you that I don't know very much."

The door clicked shut again and Elrond was left alone with the young healer once more.

"Bellmaethorion?" he asked, knocking again and slowly opening the door, "Are you in here?" Heavy wood scraped over stone as the guest chambers gradually came into view. Lindir frowned as he stepped inside, brows furrowing as he once more heard a strange noise from the bathroom. "Bellmaethorion?" he repeated, staring at the strange chaos in the room. Thranduil's seneschal was obviously not a very tidy person.

"Just a moment!" A muffled voice came through the door.

"Is every thing alright?"

"Yes of course! Just give me some more time!"

Lindir straightened his robes and scrutinized the room more closely. The bed was almost drowning in books, none of which he had ever seen before. Used plates and tray were stacked on the window sill and a brown cloak covered what seemed to be a pile of clothes on the chair in the corner. The minstrel sighed. At least the plates and trays were clean.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, lirimaer," Bellmaethorion grinned at the stunned minstrel, the charm of his smile almost evaporating as Lindir noticed the tangled and matted hair and the nondescript brown stains on the seneschal's tunic. "What brings you to my chambers?"

"I... erm... wondered if you might like to take a walk through the gardens with me." Lindir blushed desperately trying to adjust the sleeves if his robes.

"But of course!"

Lindir smiled as Bellmaethorion grinned again.

"What time is it?"

Lindir frowned. "It is early afternoon," the minstrel shivered as Bellmaethorion grabbed another cloak from somewhere between the plates, "You missed much."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"O..."An uneasy silence fell, only disturbed by the noise of a busy afternoon.

"Well," Bellmaethorion smiled self-consciously tugging his clothes into place, "Let's go then."  
"Lindir nodded, an unreadable emotion flickering through his eyes as he quickly went ahead. Bellmaethorion followed at once, looking something between angry and puzzled.

"Master?" A rough voice asked, causing him to frown as he reluctantly looked up from the book he had been reading.

"Yes?" he growled angrily, satisfaction flooding through him as the Orc cowered. Disgusting creatures. But he had to make do with them for now. It was too early to reveal his other servants.

"Sadjan has not returned yet, Master," the Orc reported reluctantly.

"And?"

"And the others sensed a loss of power and..."

"A loss of power?" Barak repeated, his interest piqued, "How strong was that loss?"

The Orc winced as red eyes fixed intently upon him. "Very strong, Master," the creature whimpered, "It might be better if you sent someone to... have a look at the matter..."

The Orc never had a chance of finishing his sentence as an invisible fist drove into its stomach, knocking it against the nearest wall.

"Are you trying to tell me what I should do?" Barak asked, letting the Orc breathe again.

"No... no Master!" the pitiful creature gasped out, writhing in pain.

"And do you really think that I am unaware of Sadjan's whereabouts or actions?"

"No!" The Orc screamed, "Master sees everything! Master is all-knowing!" Cruel laughter bounced of the ceiling.

"I am indeed," sharp teeth flashed in a menacing grin, "And it seems that you had better be reminded of that..."

The Orc's anguished screams were the only thing ever heard of it again.

Erestor tried to smile as Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at him. "I did eat," he pointed out, pushing the plate away.

"But not very much."  
"Glorfindel," the advisor shook his head, a sad smile playing on his lips, "As much as I try to appreciate your concern, I am able to take care of myself and survive on my own."

"Survive yes," Glorfindel leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands, "But live?"

"I can never truly live as long as Barak does."

"But didn't you say that you thought he was dead?"

"Yes."

"How can that be?"

"I thought I saw him die." Erestor replied stonily.

"You thought?"

"Yes," slender fingers grabbed a peach and toyed nervously with the fruit, "I convinced myself that he was dead. I saw him fall but he's obviously still alive."

"How can you know if your bond has been dormant for millennia?"

"I dreamt of him…" Erestor said reluctantly, the shadow on his face accompanied by a bitter smile.

"You dream of each other?" Glorfindel's eyes widened, "Those nightmares you had… the memories that manifested themselves in blood… were that dreams and memories of him?"

Erestor swallowed a painful lump in his throat as he nodded, his eyes never leaving the peach in his hands.

"Aiya, Erestor," the seneschal reached out, gently cupping the other's trembling hands, "What did he do to you?"

Erestor shook his head, raven strands hiding his silent tears from Glorfindel. It was still too much to talk about.

"Erestor?" Glorfindel asked worriedly as the advisor remained silent, "Erestor?"

A sob rose from the dark-haired elf's lips as he suddenly found himself enveloped by Glorfindel's arms, Tears started to flow freely as soothing hands rubbed his back and stroked his hair.

"I'm sorry," the advisor whispered, "I never wanted anyone to see me like this.. it's just…"

"Hush," Glorfindel wrapped himself tightly around the trembling bundle of robes in his arms, "You don't have to talk, it'll be alright somehow…" Gingerly he lifted Erestor into his arms, wondering how little the advisor weighed, and carried him through the door that connected the library with the dark-haired elf's private chambers.

Erestor smiled weakly through a curtain of tears as Glorfindel carefully deposited him on his bed, never letting go. "I am sorry." He said again.

"There's no need to be," Glorfindel wiped a tear from Erestor's cheek, "I know the power of memories." His eyes lingered on Erestor's tear-streaked cheek.

"Thank you." The tired whisper tore right through Glorfindel's defences, giving the Elda's heart a painful squeeze. His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as soft lips suddenly brushed over his, almost too tenderly to be felt.

Surprised Glorfindel lifted his hands to his tingling lips, a stunned smile on his face.

"Erestor…" a hungry whisper as they embraced again, tenderness forgotten as the need for contact became too great.

"Glorfindel," Erestor gasped between urgent kisses, robes sliding from his shoulder under skilled hands, "You know that this cannot… cannot go…" Another kiss claimed his lips and he surrendered, giving in to both, Glorfindel's desire and his own needs. Warm skin moved over his own, cooling and heating it at the same time.

Teeth tugged at his bottom lip, demanding entrance, and then moved on to his nipples and scraped over his stomach. His fingers moved of their own accord tangling themselves in silky blond strands as Glorfindel straddled him, lean muscle and hardened arousal pressing against him.

Panting heavily they moved against each other, seeking as much contact and friction as possible, their lips fusing and unfusing in a dance of passion. All too soon Glorfindel spilled himself, collapsing on top of the advisor in time with his release. Reluctantly he rolled to his side, drawing Erestor into his arms.

"'Restor?" he asked, frowning as his hand encountered the advisor's still flaccid member.

"I'm sorry," Erestor's voice was muffled by Glorfindel's shoulder, "I can't.. not while the bond is still in place…"  
Shocked Glorfindel stared into the darkness, till he felt Erestor withdraw.

"No," he quickly pulled the raven-haired elf close, forcing the other to look at him, "I'm not going to let you go now."

Erestor's arms wrapped themselves around him, holding onto him as though his life depended on it. Soon Glorfindel fell asleep, noticing Erestor go limp in his arms but unable to sense the darkness that claimed the advisor's mind once more.


	17. Chapter 16

Dear Mercury, Mary Sue, Arian and Author Unknown, thanks for keeping up with me in spite of my long update pauses. I really appreciate your reviews and I would love being able to update more often but since I don't even own a computer any more it usually takes me two days off and all in all 500 kilometres to update. I moved out a little more than two months ago and apart from my mobile phone a (not electrical!) typewriter is as modern as it gets with me. I will continue writing ( I am way too stubborn to let a story of mine go unfinished!) and if you'd like to find my updates sooner, you can always have a look at Thanks for reading still!

Chapter 16

Legolas and Eldarion failed to hide their grins as a very ill-tempered looking Himli entered the great hall in the morning. Curious looks followed the scowling dwarf, who was already wearing his helmet.  
"Why my dear friend," Legolas smiled broadly as he feigned surprise, "Are you already feeling hot and bothered this morning? Maybe your age is starting to get to you... I have been told so often that one can never be sure with all these beards and..."  
Eldarion'a laughter was cut short as Legolas suddenly found a lot of growling dwarf and sharp axes on his chest. Aragorn, Arwen and the royal guards stared in shock as the cold metal of a throwing axe pressed against the tender skin of Legolas' throat.  
"There's only one thing bothering me, you nancing, flower-picking menace," he hissed, "And that's you! How could you do that to me?"  
"Me?" Wide blue eyes blinked innocently, "I haven't done a thing!"  
"I know it was you!" The axe pressed closer.  
"My dear master dwarf," Legolas glared at his friend, making no effort to get the dwarf off him, "I have no idea what you could be talking about."  
"You have till tonight to rectify this situation. If you do not I will consider your actions," he paused briefly to glare at Eldarion, "A decleration of war. Have I made myself clear?"  
"Absolutely." Legolas smiled. "May I get up now?"

Aragorn released a breath he did not know he had been holding and smiled apologetically at Arwen as he let go of her hand. "How are we to make it through their visir without blood-shed in our halls?" he whispered to his wife, still shaking his head as elf and dwarf got up, grimly staring at each other before marching off to different ends of the breakfast table.  
Arwen frowned as she noticed the half-hidden satisfied smile on Legolas' face and the guilty look on her son's face. Something was wrong. Everyone was acting out of character this morning. Even Aragorn, whose moods were usually easy to read. Sighing she reached for the bread, keeping an eye on the others during the silent meal.

"Glorfindel?" Erestor asked, tiredly rubbing his eyes. With a sigh he put the last parchment with inventory lists away. Why did they have to do this every year? Imladris had enough of everything, why bother wtih counting what would be there anyway? A frown marred his brow. Glorfindel had spent the whole morning in the library, browsing through the shelves at first and then settling down on the rug in front of the fireplace with s pile of books and innumerable rolls of parchment. The blond had barely moved all morning and had still not reacted to his name.  
"Glorfindel?" he repeated, "What in Eru's name are you doing?"  
"Hmmm?" Startled blue eyes stared at him.  
"I'm sorry for bothering you," Erestor crossed his arms in front of his chest, "But I'd like to know what is interesting enough to grab your ususally rather short-lived attention for so long."  
Glorfindel smiled. "Stop scowling, Restor."  
"I am not scowling and my name is not Restor. And you haven't answered my question."  
"Haven't I?" That infuriating smile again. "It must have slipped my mind."  
"Glorfindel!"  
"Yes?"  
"Stop these games or I'll call you Glorfy for the rest of your life."  
"Restor!" Glorfindel pressed his hands against his heart, "So cruel to me? What have I done to you today?"  
"You," Erestor glared at the blond, "Havent answered my question."  
"Which queston?" Glorfindel teased, smiling innocently as he set a book away, "I only remember hearing you insult my intelligence."  
"I asked," Erestor's eyes burned into Glorfindel's, "What you were doing before I supposedly insulted your intelligence."  
"Oh that," somehowe Glorfindel managed to speak without letting his smile fade, "I'm trying to teach myself the letters of the common tongue."  
"You what?" Erestor's eyes were wide.  
"I want to learn the common tongue," Glorfindel stated calmly.  
"But why?" Erestor frowned in irritation as the seneschal got, crossed the room and sat down on the edge of his desk. He relaxed into his chair, arching an elegant eyebrow at the blond. "Well?"  
"I told you about the creature we were hunting because it abducted Elrond?"  
"Yes?"  
"On our first evening in the wild I found a book in my saddlebags," Glorfindel explained slowly, staring off into the dancing flames in the fireplace, "There were some drawings and watercolours in the book and one of them comes very close to what the creature must look like."  
"That still doesn't explain your desire to learn the common tongue."  
"the texts in the book were written in common."  
"I see," Erestor nervously interlaced his fingers as he got up, black robes fanning out behind him, "Perhaps I can be of assistance to you. I have some knowledge of human languages and the like."  
Glorfindel frowned. Was that a tremor in the advisor's voice? His eyes narrowed. And why was Erestor acting like they barely knew each other?

"Are you sure that you don't want to talk to me?" he asked. Shadows parted, making it appear as though he just appeared in their midst.  
"You said you would not pressure me or ask any further," she ceased her frantic pacing.  
Celeborn winced at the flat tone in her voice. "I know, but it pains me to see you like this. The last time I saw you in such a state was after the attack on Celebrian."  
"Please don't remind me." Galadriel stepped away from her husband and rested her cheek against the intricately-carved wood of the window frame. She wrappped her arms around herself. "I cannot help being this way. I sense evil gathering again and I know that I have to do something against it but I don't know what to do because I'm not even able to find out what this new evil is!"  
"But what if there isn't anything you can do about it?"  
"There has to be," Galadriel insisted shivering, "How can there not be?"  
Robes rustled as Celeborn embraced her. A silver tear escaped from the corner of her eye and dampened her husband's hand.  
"Because some things are bound to happen and if the mirror didn't show you a way to prevent these things, then they are probably the will of the Valar and cannot be stopped."  
"No," Galadriel shook her head weakly, "The things I have seen cannot be the will of the Valar."  
"But what if they are?"  
"No," Galadriel insisted, "The Valar could never be that cruel."  
"I cannot judge that," Celeborn gently reminded her, "Since you haven't told me what you have seen."  
"I know," she sighed, "But I cannot. I feel that talking about this visions will make them more real. He's still talking to me... whisperinf to me..."  
"Who?"  
"Always warning me..."  
"Galadriel!" Celeborn shook her shoulders, "Answer me! Who is warning you?"  
Galadriel's gaze was lost in the golden light of the wood. "In my dreams... wings everywhere... wings... always wings... can't you hear him whisper? He always whispers of things yet to come... darkness all around... and wings..."  
"Galadriel!"  
"Offering so much knowledge... wisdom in the dark... can sense it..."  
"Orophin!"

"My lord?" Orophin asked as he stepped into the room. He frowned at once as he saw how tight Celeborn's hold on Galadriel was.  
"My wife is feeling unwell," Celeborn rushed out, "Go fetch a healer. And quickly!"  
"Yes my lord." Orophin bowed curtly and ran off, hands clenched to fists at his sides. Many strange looks followed him.

"What is it?" she asked, crossing her arms and staring at her husband. Startled grey eyes looked up at her.  
"What is what?"  
"Don't ypi dare try this game with me Aragorn, son of Arathorn!" she hissed, "I may only have been married to you for ten years but I know you and I know Gimli and Legolas as well. Something is wrong."  
Aragorn shuffled through the parchments on his desk, moving a few of them out of her sight.  
"I have received some very disturbing reports."  
"What about?" Aragorn looked up again as Arwen's hands firmly planted himself on his desk. "I want to know what has you and your friends behaving like this!"  
"Fine," Aragorn sighed heavily, "If you insist..."  
"I do!"  
"I'm getting more and more reports about Orcs moving back into our lands and there are also tales of other dark creatures being seen again."  
"And that is all?"  
"All?" Aragorn's laughter was mirthless, "No, it's not all, it's everywhere. Imladris, Mirkwood, Lothlorien... even Eomer hints at Orcs and maybe even Uruk-Hai terrorizing isolated villages!"  
"I thought we had defeated them," Arwen whispered, her face pale, "I though they were all dead..."  
"So did I." Aragorn suddenly seemed years older. "And above all this seems to be more than a simple return of darkness."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Some of the reports claim that tthe Orcs are also much faster than even Saruman's Uruk-Hai were... and stronger."  
Arwen gulped. "Stronger?"  
"Yes, and there are also bands of Moria Goblins closing in on the Golden Wood."  
"Moria? But what if..."  
"No, there was only one Balrog in Moria and it has been defeated. But who knows what evils may still lurk within the twisted mines? Balin's Tomb seems to have opened its gates."

Lindir was close to crying and screaming with frustrazion as they finally reached the rosegardens. Bellmaethorion had been as flirtatious and courteouos as always, but had studiously avoided saying anything too personal or important.  
He forced a smile, glanciung quickly at the blond elf walking next to him.  
"You have been with us for quite some time now," he tried again, vowing that it would be the last time, "How long are you planning to stay now that you know Prince Legolas isn't with us?"  
"I don't know," bellmaethorion plucked a rose from th bed of flowers, "My king is not always... just. And my failure to find his son will not sit well with him."  
Lindir smiled nervously, hopefully, "So you might decide to stay?" The minstrel blushed as Bellmaethorion reached for his hand.  
"I will if your lord Elrond permits me to stay." Bellmaethorion smiled weaklly, "I doubt that I'll be allowed to stay much longer if your lord doesn't return soon."  
Lindir frowned. "Why?"  
"Because Erestor obviously doesn't want me around, that's why."  
"You must be mistaken," Lindir gave Bellmaethorion's hand a squeeze, "Erestor never harbours unjustified grudges and you haven't done anything he could take offense at."  
"He still doesn't want me here."  
"Has he told you so?"  
"No, but the way he acts around me says it clearly enough."  
"Erestor has not been himself lately," Lindir aceeded, "He'll be back to his usual cheerful self as soon as Elrond is home again."  
"Perhaps," Bellmaethorion threw the rose away, "But I am not mistaken when I say that Glorfindel doesn't like me at all."  
"Glorfindel?" Lindor stopped, eyes wide, "Glorfindel doesn't like you?"  
"Yes."  
"That can't be! Glorfindel never dislikes anyone!"

_"Please take me with you, Sir." the young elf in front of him begged, green eyes almost wet with tears, "It's too dangerous for you to go alone! If you do not wish to take an escort with me, let at least me come with you."  
"No," black riding gloves slid into place as the dark elf turned, "I told you that I have to do this on my own."  
"But you cannot! It will kill you!"  
"And it will kill you as well if you ride with me," Erestor pointed out, glaring at the green-eyed elf in front of him, "You may be my squire but I am not going to throw away your life."  
"But Sir!"  
"I said no, Luthiel."  
Helplessly Luthiel stared at his commander, thoughts racing, "I know how much you care about Gondolin and how far you would go to protect it, Sir," he said finally, his voice shaking only a little, "But I will not allow you to die for the city."  
"You will not allow?" Erestor snorted, "You are hardly more than a child, Luthiel. How are you going to stop me?"  
"I don't know," Luthiel tried to glare at Erestor but failed miserably, "But I will try and if I fail and you still refuse to take me with you then I will follow you."  
"You will not."  
"I will. Do you want me with you, where you can watch over me or somewhere behind your back, watching you and wide open for attack?"  
"Luthiel..."  
"No," the young elf crossed his arms in front of his chest, "I have been your squire for over a decade now and I know you. You always take more risks than necesseary. Sometimes I even think that you're looking for a way to kill yourself and I won't allow that. Gondolin still needs you."  
"Luthiel..."  
"I need you." This time the blond elf managed to glare .  
For a moment Erestor stared silently at his squire. "Very well," he said finally, "Go get your sword and bow." _

"Erestor? Erestor answer me!"  
"Sorry meleth(love)," Erestor smiled, gently cupping the anxious hand on his shoulder, "I was lost in a memory."  
"From the absence of blood and the look on your face I almost daresay that it was a pleasant one."  
Glorfindel grinned as Erestor answered.  
"Not necessarily a pleaseant, but at least a happy one," the advisor's gaze returned to the notes in his lap, "I think I managed to translate this paragraph."  
"Oh really?" Glorfindel peered over his shoulder, "So fast?"  
"Yes."  
"What does it say?"  
"It's indeed a journal," Erestor paused, "And who ever wrote this seems to have been some sort of soldier in Gondolin.ö"  
"Gondolin?" Glorfindel repeated, "Really? I might know him then. He is probably long-dead, though."  
"Probably," Erestor agreed, hating himself for telling Glorfindel yet another lie."


	18. Chapter 17

Once more thanks to:

Arian - basically I didn't change anything about the formatting, I simply used Word Pad instead of Works. Glad it's better though, and I'll stick to Pad from now on. hugs

j-mercury - No, Glorfindel and Erestor never met in Gondolin (the reason why will be revealed later). Yes, the book is Erestor and he needed a way of coding it. At the time he wrote the journal almost no elf could speak, let alone read, he common tongue. Well, I won't say anythign about your Bellmaethorion questions, because I'll have much more fun letting you figure that out by yourself. smirk Thanks for staying with this story!

Also thanks to the wonderful unknown Author, who took the time to review.

GTL

Chapter 17

"Glorfindel?" Lindir cautiously stepped into the blond's chambers, "Could I talk to you for a moment?"

"But of course, meldir (friend), just let me put these somewhere..."

Patiently Lindir waited till Glorfindel had stowed a big pile of parchments away in one of the drawers.

"What do you want to talk about? Is it important? Have a seat," Glorfindel was already pulling out a chair.

Lindir shook his head, curling his feet beneath him as he sat down. "The answers to your questions are Bellmaethorion, yes and thanks."

"Bellmaethorion..."

Lindir sighed. "Why do you have that look on your face again? I told Bellmaethorion that he was wrong in believing you hated him, but..." he shrugged.

"Lindir," Gorfindel sighed deeply as he sat down, "I know I have a reputation of liking everyone but that is far from true and my dislike for Bellmaethorion is strong."

"But why, Glorfindel? Why? I know you to be an excellent judge of character and it worries me that my impression of Bellmaethorion differs so greatly from yours. Why do you dislike him so much?"

"I don't know, Lindir. I honestly don't know." Glorfindel sighed.

"But..."

"No buts, Lindir," the blond shook his head, "All I can say is that I feel that Bellmaethorion might be - or is - a threat to Erestor."

"Erestor?" the minstrel's glance was thoughtful, "He has been acting very strangely though," he said, "And he called Bellmaethorion by his name before they were introduced to each other."

"He did?"

"Mhmm." Lindir smiled helplessly, "I gather from your expression that you don't know any more than I do."

Again Glorfindel shook his head. "I am sorry to disappoint you, meldir; I only know that I sense some sort of connection between Erestor and Bellmaethorion and that I don't like it at all. Would you answer me a question in turn?"

"Of course," the minstrel smiled weakly, "What is it you want to know?"

"Why do you feel so drawn to Bellmaethorion?"

Lindir frowned. "I like him. I sense a sort of kinship with him... I feel safe around him... and I sense a need of belonging in him, a need I can understand only too well."

Glorfindel remained quiet, brows creased in thought.

"Very well," Lindir got up, brushing some imagined dust off his robes, "I shall leave you to whatever you were doing then."

"Lindir?"

The minstrel stopped, hand already on the door handle, as he heard his soft-spoken name.

"If you ever again feel like talking, don't hesitate to come by. I'll be there, even if listening should be all I can do."

Smiling briefly Lindir inclined his head before pulling the door shut after him. Glorfindel felt as though it had been shut in his face.

GTL

Thranduil paced through his study, nervously willing the strange feeling in his stomach to fade. What was the matter with him today? And how could he have been stupid enough to invite the peredhel to his quarters for dinner when he had been feeling increasingly insecure around Elrond?

He sighed, raking a hand through his long, blond hair. Because it was increasingly difficult to keep Elrond inside, that was why. And the half-elf was still not well enough to roam the forest freely, much less travel home to Imladris. And wandering through Mirkwood was even when accompanied by guards not exactly safe. Reports became more and more worrying.

"Aya, Legolas," he sighed, leaning over a bowl of water, studying the expression in his own eyes, "Where are you when I need you, ion-nin (my son)? Why couldn't you tell me where you wanted to go? I wouldn't have kept you here." Where could his son have gone to?

"Hîntawaren!"

The door opened almost soundlessly and Thranduil turned, a sad smile frozen on his lips. "Any news from Bellmaethorion or Legolas?"

"No, Sire," Thranduil's chief advisor shook his head, "We haven't heard from him since he reported that he had reached Imladris safely."

"But that was several weeks ago!"

"I know, Sire."

"Have a messenger sent to Imladris. I want to know if Bellmaethorion is still there and if he has gathered new information."

"At once, Sire." The green-eyed elf courtsied. Thranduil stared after him for some minutes before he forced his attention back to the carefully laid-out table. Everything had to be perfect.

GTL

"Glorfindel?" Erestor asked softly, tearing his gaze from the old journal. "Glorfindel?" He frowned. The seneschal was once again sitting in front of the fireplace, staring off into the dancing flames.

"Yes?"

"Have you already scanned the elvish parts of the journal for useful information?"

"I have," the blond sighed, handing some parchments over, "But it seems that our unknown soldier decided to write almost everything of interest in that accursed common tongue."

Erestor's eyebrows rose. "Surely you're not thinking about giving up?"

"No meleth (love), I'm not," Glorfindel sighed, "I simply loathe making such slow progress."

"But we are still making progress."

"Yes." Glorfindel turned to stare into the flames again, once more lost in thought as a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," Erestor called, eyes narrowing as Collmir entered. What was the guard doing here again?

"My lords," Collmir bowed deeply towards Glorfindel and inclined his head towards Erestor, "A Messenger from Gondor has arrived, demanding to speak to Lord Elrond at once. He refuses to be delayed. Shall I lead him in?"

"When did he arrive?" Erstor asked.

"He has just dismounted."

"Lead him to us," Glorfindel smiled at the scowling guard, "Erestor and I will hear whatever he has to say."

"Very well," Collmir bowed again, "Shall I tell the servants to ready some guestquarters?"

"Do so, Collmir. Just in case."

As soon as the blond guard had left Erestor and Glorfindel gathered their parchments, carefully stacking them onto the advisor's desk after Glorfindel had slipped the journal into his robes.

GTL

"My lord?" he asked, bowed and stepped closer without waiting for an answer.

"What is it, Orophin?" Celeborn did not turn around but instead continued to stare out of the window, hiding his tear-streaked cheeks from one of the few Galadhrim he trusted.

"I am sorry to disturb you, my lord," Orophin frowned, "But my brothers and I worry about the Lady Galadriel. Will you not tell us what ails her?" The guard raised his eyebrows as silence greeted his request. "I do not mean to be preposterous," he continued, "But we have always been attached to you and your wife since you took us in and her recent behaviour worries us. We know that something is amiss:"

Celborn smiled sadly, wiping another tear away. "You have always been more observant than your brothers," he turned, forcing himself not to flinch as he noticed the shock on the younger elf's face, "But I cannot tell you what ails my wife." He glanced at the intricate patterns on the floor before finally meeting Orophin's eyes again, "For I do not know it myself."

Orophin gulped, attempting to force a smile to his lips. "Pardon me for mentioning it, Sire, but you do not look well yourself."

"How could I be well while my wife suffers? We are bound, Orophin. I feel some of the pain she's going through."

"And you still can't tell what causes this pain?"

"No, pen-neth (little-one) I cannot. Our bond does not keep her from hiding things from me."

Orophin inclined his head, a sad smile gracing his lips, "Is there anything I can do, my lord?"

"There might be, but ..."

"But, mylord?"

"I do not want to place you in danger."

"I would go willingly," Orophin said softly, his hand gently settling on Celeborn's shoulder, "Whatever I can do to help, I will gladly do."

"I know you will," cold fingers closed around Orophin's, "And yet I feel that I should not be asking this of you."

Silence settled in the royal talan; even Galadriel's soft sobbing from the next room ceased as evening slowly swallowed the day. Shadows fell over Lothlorien in a pale twilight, strengthening the blue-silver mist that never left the elven realm nowadays. Few birds greeted the chilly night with their song, yet for every beak that would never open in song again the remaining birds sang all the more sweetly.

"Just look at this, Orophin," Celeborn whispered, pulling the young guardian to the window, "Each day that the power of the rings has been gone has seen more and more of Lorien's light fade to never return again. I dread the evening for I can never know how much of the realm my wife and I built here will still be there come morning. The time of the elves is fading. Maybe we should have joined those of our cousins from Imladris who already set sail."

"Na, my lord," Orophin was shocked to see how weary and worn his silver-haired foster father looked, "Do not say such things. Only few of the Imladris elves have sailed and almost none from Lorien. As long as our hearts are still bound to this place Lorien will live. This realm was more than just a safe place created by Galadriel's ring. And it still is."

"Thank you, Orophin," Celeborn squeezed the comforting hand on his shoulder, "Would you go to Gondor for me?"

"Why Gondor, my lord?"

"Galadriel said something in her sleep," Celeborn admitted, "And I feel that a lot of the things that will shape our near future are bound to Gondor for some reason or other. Go to Gondor Orophin," he gazed deeply into the younger elf's eyes, "Gather information on any suspicious activity you find and bring Aragorn and Arwen my best wishes."

"Perhaps my lord, it would be prudent to offer Aragorn my services as teacher and instructor for his son?"

"A wonderful idea, Orophin," Celeborn nodded, "I will write a letter at once. Aragorn knows of your skills with a bow. It's the perfect reason for you to stay in Gondor."

"When shall I leave?"

"As soon as possible," Celeborn saud absentmindedly, still staring out of the window, "And Orophin?"

"Yes my lord?"

"Take your brothers with you, you may need their assistance."

"Gladly, my lord."

GTL

"Well met, friend," Erestor was the first to address the messenger as he stepped into the library.

"Lord Elrond?" the messenger asked, breath catching at the immaculately dressed vision in front of him. Long, black hair, held by by two simple braids, framed a delicately pale face with burning dark eyes. A robe of green velvet, so dark it was almost black completed the picture of perfection.

"Nay, I am Erestor, Lord Elrond's chief advisor," he gesured towards Glorfindel, "And this is Glorfindel of Gondolin, Imladris' seneschal and the captain of her guards."

"I am honoured to meet you," the messenger bowed deeply, "I am Aragog of the city watch." He frowned briefly. "Forgive me, but my king sent me to deliver my message to Lord Elrond and no one else." His frown increased at tle look that passed between the councillor and the seneschal. "My lords? Is there a problem?"

"There is indeed," Erestor beat Glorfindel to it, "Lord Elrond is unfortunately away, visiting a distant ally and has entrusted his realm to me and Lord Glorfindel in the meantime."

"A distant ally?"

"He is currently residing at Thranduil's court in Mirkwood."

"Mirkwood?" the messenger repeated, his face falling, "There is not enough time for me to travel on to MIrkwood."

"Would you be willing to hand the message over to us or perhaps Elladan and Elrohir, Lord Elrond's sons and heirs, instead?"

"I am sure that doing so is within my king's order." Aragog handed a sealed parchment over to Erestor, bowing once again, "With your leave I shall stay another day or two before resuming my journey."

"Please do so," Glorfindel smiled, "Guestquarters have already been made readied for you. Collmir!"

"Yes, Lord Glorfindel?" the blond asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Please show Aragog to his quarters."

GTL


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"Erestor? Love?" Glorfindel asked worriedly, taking a hurried step towards the dark-haired elf as the chief advisor's expression turned deathly ashen. "What is it? What does this message say to strike such fear into your heart?"

"You do not want to know," Erestor answered and turned towards the window, the parchment still clutched thightly in his trembling hands, "This would only confuse and anger you."

"Erestor?" Glorfindel tried again, now close enough to soothingly carress his lover's shoulders, "Please tell me what is amiss?"

"Aragorn started with his usual ramblings about the state of the kingdom, the number of traders that passed his borders and all that but..." Erestor trailed off, his slender shoulders now trembling under Glorfindel's loving touch.

"But what meleth-nîn (my love)?"

Only after quite a while did Erestor continue to talk, his gaze still lost on something outside. "But he hints at some very strange things..." he trailed off again.

"Like what?"

"Basically he wants to know why I visited him in Minas Tirith and demanded his son's life as price for the continued peace between Gondor and Imladris."

"Why you what?" Glorfindel yelled loud enough to make the advisor wince once more, "You haven't left Imladris for almost a year! How can he claim such a thing?"

"He doesn't say how exactly, but he states that he is more than able to recognize me and my speech pattern and that he has no doubt that it was indeed me. He also claims that magic was involved somehow."

"Magic?" Glorfindel laughed mirthlessly, "Well, that settles it then. You're not able to perform magic and you have never been."

"Aragorn also asks Elrond to keep a close watch on me," Eresor continued flatly, "And to tell him of any strange behaviour I might show. The rest is the usual conglumeration of increased Orc and Uruk-Hai sightings, traders and supply treks disappearing, dark creatures roaming the lands and attacking the peasants and so on."

"I see," Glorfindel's voice cut like glass, "And does he mention any proof he believes to have?"

"No," Erestor shook his head, leaning forwards to rest his hands on the window sill, "No proof except for what he saw with his own eyes."

"I see," Glorfindel said again, wrapping his arms around Erestor's waist and resting his chin on the dark-haired elf's shoulder, "Maybe that is why Aragog reacted so strangely when we told him that Elrond does not dwell in Imladris at the moment."

"No," Erestor's trembling had ceased and he straightened his shoulders before relaxing into Glorfindel's embrace for the first time that day, "Aragog is just a messenger, why should he know what the message contained?"

"I've got a very strange feeling about this," the blond seneschal announced, feigning indignance as Erestor chuckled. "I really do!"

"You and your feelings, Fin," he shook his head, curtain-muted sunlight glittering damply on his ebony tresses, "They'll be the death of you one day."

"I hope not," Glorfindel closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, relishing in the soft smell enveloping him. The advisor always smelled of almonds and ink. "I hope to spend some more centuries with you." He paused, frowning. "Maybe even some millennia."

"You're a helpless romantic, seneschal," Eresor threw the offending parchment onto his desk, "What are we to do with this message?"

xxxGTLxxx

"I will stay," he announced suddenly, his blue green eyes still fixed on a passing butterfly. "I cannot go back now that I have denied my king information for so long."

"Bellmaethorion?" Lindir turned, staring bemusedly at the other elf, "What are you talking about? What information did you keep from your king?" The song of the birds was the only answer he received. They had decided to spend a quiet day down at the Bruinen and Lindir had agreed glady, hoping to get to know Bellmathorion a little better. An ancient weeping willow sheltered them from above, creating a tranquil grove if greenish twilight around them. Small, red flowers dotted the grass, glowing starkly red where they touched Bellmaehtorion's blond hair. Somehow they reminded Lindir of blood but the sight still took his breath away. Bellmaethorion was beautiful, there was no denying it. Cherry red lips bore a delicious contrast to the green of his eyes and a light, low-cut blue tunic revelaed a well-defined slightly bronzed chest. Dark brown leggins hugged his legs, ending in soft leather boot. All in all, Lindir had never seen anyone more beautiful. And the strange vulnerability he sensed in the strong warrior only added to the other's allure.

"Bellmaethorion?" Lindir repeated, forcing himself to take another breath, "What were you talking about?"

Slowly the emerald green eyes opened and came to rest on the minstrel's face, glowing with a soft feeling of warmth and contentment. "I have decided to stay in Imladris." Bellmaethorion elaborated, "If your lord will allow me to and Glorfindel doesn't kill me first."

"Glorfindel would never hurt a fellow elf!" Lindir protested, his violet eyes sparkling angrily as he sat up, "And it is your behaviour that sets him on edge and makes him act strangely!"

"My behaviour?" Repeated Bellmaethorion bemusedly, "But how can he take offense at my behaviour? I treat him just like everyone else! The only one who I treat differently from the others in Imladris are you!"

"Oh." Lindir blushed, settling down again, "Am I?"

"Yes." Bellmaethorion smiled his most dazzling smile and climbed up, gently taking the minstrel's hand as he knelt down in front of the silver-haired elf, "And if Lord Elrond grants me his permission to stay, Lindir," he paused, gazing deeply into the shimmering eyes in front of him, "If he does, will you agree to spend the rest of your time with me, as my bonded mate and husband?"

"Your husband?" Lindir asked, his eyes almost comically widened, "Do you really mean..." he gulped, "Do you really want me to be... ?"

"Yes," Bellmaethorion lightly traced Lindir's rind-finger with his hands, "I really want you to be the other part of me, I already feel as if you were and I want to make this official." He paused, smiling nervously. "I know this is sudden and we haven't known each other for very long but..."

"Yes!"

"But I really feel like I already know you and... what?" This time Bellmaethorion was the one looking more surprised than should be possible, "What?"

"I said yes," Lindir grinned, pulling the other elf up and burying him in a thight hug, "I said yes," he repeated softly, resting his head against Bellmaethorion's chest and listening to the frantoc beating of the other elf's heart, "I want to be your bonded mate."

xxxGTLxxx

"You have managed to surprise me." Elrond suddenly said, admiring the way the wine in his goblet reflected the light.

"What?"

Elrond ignored Thranduil's surprised stare and continued nonchalantly, "One could even say that you truly managed to impress me."

"And in what way did I manage to impress you?" Thranduil's eyebrows were almost disappearing into his hairline as he raised his eyes from the rim of his goblet.

Elrond smiled. "Do you really have to ask?"

"And what if I do?"

Elrond shook his head, briefly fixing his gaze on the table as he sat his goblet down. "Why do you continue to care for me? Why did you treat my wounds? Why did you endanger yourself and your guards just to rescue me? You lost so many men... why?" He repeated again finally, staring at the now sombre woodland king, "Why didn't you leave me there to die?"

"Why should I have?" Thranduil asked quietly, mirroring Elrond's way of putting the goblet down. "I would have attacked the being that had abducted you, even if you had already been dead." The emerald green eyes were hard as ice, causing Elrond to shudder unvoluntarily. "I do not tolerate evil in my woods."

"But you could have left me after you defeated Sadjan." Elrond insisted. His hands stilled as Thranduil slammed his goblet onto the table. Wet spots stained the table cloth, emitting a sickeningly sweet smell as they grew, darkening to a bloody red.

"I am no kin-slayer, peredhel," Thranduil snapped, already pushing back his chair, "In contrast to certain other elves. And you would do well to remember that."

Elrond nodded numbly, the small gesture hidden from Thranduil. Dumbfounded the half-elf stared at the swirling cloak of the woodland king. Why did his conversations with Thranduil always go wrong? Groaning he buried his face in his hands. Why was he unable to engage the other elf in a civil conversation? He was very aware of Thranduil's temper. After all he had been on the receiving end of it often enough. "Idiot..." Elrond smiled sadly as he muttered the word to the room. His smile faltered as his gaze came to rest on the half-eaten meal. Dark green robes rustled as he pushed himself out of his chair. He had to find a way to apologize to the woodland king. Maybe there was something he could do to help now that his wounds had almost healed?

xxxGTLxxx

"Their relationship seems still somewhat strained," Arwen whispered, leaning towards her husband, "Are you sure that won't be a problem?"

"Don't worry," Aragorn hid the shake of his head in a look into his goblet, "They'll sort it out somehow, they always have before." He smiled as he sniffed at the wine. "Their friendship is very strong."

"But they haven't been talking to each other for weeks now! What if they start a play of revenge?"

Aragorn snorted. "They are already playing a game of revenge and have been since the fellowship. Gimli just hasn't forgiven Legolas for the hair incident yet. You know how dwarves are with their beards. He'll come around somewhen."

"I only hope he'll come around soon," Arwen sighed, secretely glaring at the two prankster in question, "This endless silence at mealtimes is beginning to strain my nevers."

"They'll manage somehow. The only thing that worries me is our son's involvement in all this."

"You are right," a soft smile played on Arwen's lush lips, "I never thought that he would team up with Legolas. He always seemed to like Gimlie better."

"Maybe that is the reason why he decided to team up with Legolas," Aragorn raised an eyebrow at the scowling dwarf and shook his head, "He always pranks those he likes best."

"Don't you think it strage that father did not join us for the celebration?"

"Frankly, I don't know. I haven't heard from him directly for a very long time and the last news I received from Imladris weren't good."

"Which news do you mean?"

Aragorn smiled softly as he squeezed his wife's hand, "I'll tell you later. That topic is not fit for dinner conversation," he added with a meaningful look in the general direction of his advisors.

Faramir's brows furrowed as he noticed the king's gaze on him. He turned back to the seneschall with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He could not help the feeling that their king was hiding something important from them.


	20. Chapter 19

Once more thanks to the wonderful Arian and j-mercuryuk! I am glad you're still sticking with me and my story! (and I sue hope this was soon enough ;)...)

and now... on to the story!

xxxGTLxxx

Chapter 19

"Thranduil?" Elrond asked carefully, hiding a deep sigh as the woodland king's back stiffened visibly. "I came to apologize. My question was..." he paused, staring pleadingly at the other elf's back, "Uncalled for and I did not mean it the way it sounded," he finished lamely, "I truly did not mean to put it that way!"

"Then why did you, per-edhel (half-elf)?" Thranduil continued to stare out of the window, "Do you have so little faith in our kin?"

"No," Elrond wrapped his arms around himself, gently taking another step towards the proud king, "I have faith in our kin, I just seem to always say the wrong thing when I'm around you and I don't know why."

Thranduil's mirthless laughter stabbed painfully into his heart. "Maybe I should avoid being around you then until you have managed to make your tongue say what your brain wants it to."

"Maybe," Elrond conceded, "But I would miss your company."

"Would you now?" Thranduil crossed his arms in front of his chest, listlessly staring at the busy servants and guards in the court yard, "And why should I care about your feelings after you continue to insult me and my hospitality?"

"I already said that I had come to apologize for what I said," Elrond took another step towards Thranduil, gingerly placing a hand on the other elf's shoulder. Thranduil stiffened even further. "Please accept my apologies. We were friends once, can you not find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"Leave my heart be, per-edhel, you know nothing of it." Thranduil's voice was as cold as ice as he shook Elrond's hand off, "I strongly suggest you leave."

"As you wish." Elrond nodded dejectedly and turned, forcing himself not to look back as he strode towards the door.

"Elrond." Thranduil's voice was warmer, but he had still not turned.

"Yes?" Hope was evident in Elrond's question.

"You have my forgiveness, but do think before you speak again in my presence."

"Thank you," Elrond whispered softly, "I will."

"You may leave now."

Without another word the half elf left, leaving Thranduil to the many thoughts racing through his mind.

xxxGTLxxx

"Do you think Aragorn and the others still believe that we aren't talking to each other?" Gimli asked as he felt the familiar weight he was waiting for every night return to his matress once again.

"I don't know," strong yet soft arms sneaked up on him, encircling his waist and keeping him in place. Gimli smiled as silky hair slid over his skin and a familiar head came to rest on his chest. "But I know that you should dye your beard again. It looks good on you; makes you almost look like a warrior dwarf or something."

"Or something, eh?" A deer chuckle rumbled through Gimli's chest, "You can count yourself lucky Master elf, that I have sworn not to kill you."

"Of course," Legolas blew a raspberry against the dwarf's chest, "You'd get rid of me in an instant if you could."

"Naturally," Gimli huffed, playfully swatting at the elf, "Who in his right mind could want someone as skinny as you? Unfortunately I seem to be stuck with you."

"You're only keeping me to fatten me up?" Legolas pouted, "Really, you dwarves are just as insensitive as my father claims you are."

"Oh," Gimli absentmindedly threaded his fingers through the elf's golden hair, "He has first hand experience then?"

"Ugh," Legolas shuddered, shaking his head, "I do not want to think about that."

"What, your father in bed with a dwarf? Is it so awful for you to think that your father might still be havin -."

"Shut up!" Legolas raised his head, glaring at the dwarf.

"Make me," Gimli grinned, satisfied with his sucess. He always managed to get Legolas riled up.

"You bet I will!"

Gimli's grin broaned as the elf straddled him, slender hips and heated skin pressing against him. His hands roamed appreciatively about the elf. "I think I like your way of shutting me up," he managed to whisper, just before a possessive mouth descended onto his lips.

xxxGTLxxx

An angry growl left Barak's lips as he prowled his newly-erected dungeons. The orcs were just not quick enough. "You!" he snarled, grabbing a passing Uruk-Hai.

"Yes master?" the creature almost squeaked, eyes wide with something as close to fear as he was able to feel. It's feets dangled helplessly in the air.

Barak forced himself not to laugh and instead concentrated on his renewed anger at his servant's inferiority.

"Why is this taking you so long?" he snarled disgustedly as he threw the pitiful creature into a corner. The corners of his mouth twitched as the uruk hit a pile of stones with an anguished yelp. "Stop squealing and answer me!" his voice was low and sharp enough to cut glass, "Why are you set on disappointing me?"

"I'm not! Not!" The uruk climbed to its feet, staring at Barak from wide, yellow eyes.

"Then why are not even the dungeons ready? Am I supposed to rule the world from a ruin? Do you want the free people of Middle Earth to laugh about us?"

"No master," the uruk scared listlessly at the floor, "We are doing our best, but the goblins you gave us are slow and have their own minds."

"Then whip it out of them!" Barak's eyes were narrowed slits of red fire, "Is it too difficult for you to get my wishes done? Should I look for another servant to supervise this?"

"No master," the uruk growled, "I won't disappoint you again."

"See that you don't," Barak smiled, already turning, "You won't live to see my mercy once more."

He frowned as he strode out of the dungeons. He had to do something. He had left that stubborn mortal king and the damned elf in mirkwood alone for too long. At least the Imladris leader was still in Mirkwood. Orcs scattered and disappeared miraculously as soon as they saw their master's smile. It was time to set some plans into motions.

xxxGTLxxx

"Erestor! Erestor!"

The advisor turned, surprise clearly etched onto his face as the door to his private chambers flew open. "You won'l believe what happened to me today!" Lindir was babbling away, violet eyes glittering with happiness as he embraced his friend.

"Lindir!" Erestor shook his head, obviously trying to connect the excited elf in front of him with his usual quiet friend. "What happened? What has you babbling and bouncing like an elfing on his begetting day?"

"He did it!" Lindir hugged the usually stern advisor again, "He finally asked! I am so happy!"

"Who asked what Lindir?" Erestor had somehow managed to free himself and close the door, "Why don't you sit down, take a deep breath and then tell me again what happened?"

"Bellmaethorion," Lindir sighed happily as he let himself fall onto Erestor's bed, "He finally asked me to bond with him!"

Erestor frowned. "And you agreed?"

"Of course!" Lindir's face suddenl darkened. "Erestor is something amiss? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing, it is nothing," Erestor shook his head, hiding part of his bewilderment behind a curtain of dark hair, "I am just surprised that is all. May your bond be as happy as you deserve it to be." Lindir's hands were warm in his, "You deserve every little happiness in this world, and if you think Bellmaehtorion is the one to make you happy, then I wish you every luck and happiness."

"You still don't sound too convinced," Lindir's smile faltered, "What is it that you do not like about my intended?"

"I do not like the fact that we still know so little about him," Erestor admitted, gently patting Lindir's hand, "But if he managed to capture your heart, then he must be very special indeed. Only a very special man can deserve your love."

Tears swam in Lindir's eyes as he buried Erestor in another tight hug. "Thank you," he whispered, "Only you could put something like that so beautifully. What have I done to deserve a friend like you?"

"Not much," Erestor grinned, fighting back tears of his own, "You've simply been yourself when we first crossed paths, that was all." Lindir's hold on him tightened ever so little. Neither of them heard the door open.

"Do I need a special invitation, or am I allowed to enter without one?" An amused voice suddenly asked from the door.

"Glorfindel!" Erestor quickly hid his nervosity as he motioned for the blond to come in, "Lindir just had some very good news to spread."

"Good news?" Glorfindel arched an eyebrow, "Then maybe I should go and come back again when I've found some wine to celebrate whatever occasion you are hiding with?"

"We're not hiding anything," Lindir's smile became even broader if that was possible at all, "We were merely talking about my engagement."

"Engagement?" Sheets rustled as Glorfindel joined the two other elves on the bed, "And pray tell, who finally managed to secure your heart?"

Lindir suddenly fidgeted nervously, blushing to the tips of his ears. "Bellmaethorion." he mumbled, and then, smiling repeated in a louder voice, "I told Bellmaethorion I'd bind with him as soon as he has gained our lord's permission to stay in Imladris."

"Bellmaethorion?" Glorfindel looked more than just thoughtful. "Are you sure that this is wise, meldir (friend)? You have only known him for some weeks."

Lindir shook his head. "My heart is sure. I know that you don't exactly like him, but I hope you'll make the effort to get to know him."

"Rest assured my friend that I will do just that," Glorfindel took Erestor's hand, caressed it gently, "And we are both very happy for you."

Lindir grinned again, the heat in his cheeks slowly fading. "I know when someone compliments me out," he smiled, "And I shall gladly give you some time for yourselves now."

"Thank you." Glorfindel nodded, "And if you're looking for someone to help with the bonding preparations or the writing of your vows..."

"I know who not to ask," Lindir completed, "Please forgive me, Glorfindel, but your taste is not exactly known to be refined."

"Impertinent elfling," the blond eldar growled as the door finally closed behind the younger minstrel, "Just as well that he has better taste than me."

Erestor merely smiled, shaking his head.

xxxGTLxxx

Elrond was sitting on a stone bench as the sun set, looking out over one of the small lakes that were part of the royal gardens of Mirkwood. He had wandered around aimlessly between the lush beds of flowers, only now and then stopping to inspect a rare herb. His mind was still reeling. No matter what he wanted to say or said it was always wrong, he always ended up enraging Thranduil. And somehow he doubted that the woodland king's temper was the only thing

responsible for that. Somehow he always managed to push all the wrong buttons with Thranduil.

It was almost as bad as it had been shortly before the final battle of the last alliance. Groaning he brushed a strand of hair out of his face. Thranduil had already said that he forgave him, but had he been sincere or was it merely a way of placating Elrond and getting rid of him faster. His fingers were cool against his skin as he buried his face in his hands. Why could he never do things the simply way? Why did he have to make everything so absurdly complicated?

"I am sorry," he whispered again, "I know I am nothing but a fool whenever you are near, but I do not mean to be."

"Aye, you truly are a fool. As are most of us from time to time."

""Thranduil!" Elrond's hair fanned out around him, as his head whipped around, "How long have you been standing there?"

A secret smile lit the king's face. "Long enough to know that your apology was truly sincere," he briefly inclined his head before seating himself on the bench. "It seems that both of us are still intent on making fools of themselves after all this time."

Elrond snorted. "I would like to avoid making a fool of myself in the future."

"Would you really?" Thranduil smiled, "And what is to amuse me then?"

"I amuse you?" Elrond forgot all about the beautiful dusk scenery around them as he stared at the other elf.

"Oh, from time to time." Thranduil smiled again, "You are right, you know. We really were friends now, though war and death are enough to destroy all friendship."

Elrond smiled softly. "Aye, I suppose they are. But our future is not set in stone," he continued quietly, "And there is no need to stick to a pattern we both dislike."

Thranduil's eyebrows rose impressively. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"

"I think I am," Elrond chuckled softly, "I know that many things have happened, but maybe we can try to find our old friendship again?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Too many things have happened since we were friends. I cannot simply forget them."

"I am not asking you to," Elrond explained, "I am merely asking you to consider giving me another chance."

Thranduil's green eyes were intense as he studied Elrond closely. Finally he turned away and stared at the lake. His gaze followed the few midgets flying circles over the water. The splash of a jumping fish was the only thing disturbing the silence, while the last rays of Anor finally retired from Arda. Ithil was already setting.

"Maybe," Thranduil said finally. "Maybe there really is a chance to go back to these times somehow."

Elrond did not answer, but even without looking at him Thranduil knew that the half elf was smiling. He could sense it.

Neither of them knew that at exactly the same moment a dark storm was already gathering strength at Mirkwood's borders.

xxxGTLxxx

"What is this all about?" Aragorn winced, as he heard Arwen's determined tone. He knew it only too well. It was exactly the same one Elrond used, when he would broke no argument.

"I don't really know," he sighed, kicking off his boots and walking towards the paper and parchment-littered desk under the window. He glared at the mess for a second before turning back to is wife. "There are many strange events occuring throughout the free realms at the moment, and I understand only very few of them. If any at all."

"So?" Arwen set her embroidery aside, "What is there to fear? There may still be some orcs left, but Sauron is defeated and with him the shadow in the east. There may be darkness still, but darkness has always been a part of the world, ever since Melkor's song first caused discord between the Valar. We can never hope to destroy it, only to keep it at bay."

"I know," Aragorn sighed. He smiled as Arwen poured him a goblet of wine. "But I have known enough darkness to last me a lifetime. Why can we not live in peace?"

Arwen smiled, shaking her head. Aragorn's gaze was glued to her slender form as she made her tour of the room, lighting the candles next to their bed and extinguishing the others. "Because peace is something that can only truly be if it takes root in our heart and continues to grow there," a candle flickered and died beneath her hand, "We long for peace but as long as the memories and the pain of war are still part of our hearts we cannot enjoy it. You have to be patient, melamin (my love). The seed of peace is already sown in the hearts of the children of this land. Give it time to grow."

Aragorn smiled, kissing her hand. "You are wise beyond anything I know," he whispered, looking up at her through dark, tousled strands of hair, "No matter what, you always manage to bring joy and hope back to my heart." He shivered as Arwen trailed a finger across his jawline.

"That is only because you became my hope when all else seemed lost." She smiled again. "Are you ready for bed?"

Aragorn's eyes darkened, flickering with desire as he nodded. "Always," he whispered, "Always yours."


	21. Chapter 2o

Chapter 20

"Just hold on!" Orophin called to his brothers, jumping from his horse as another one of the beasts hurled itself at the animal. "The bridge is not far!"

"They are too many!" Latent fear colouted Haldir's eyes, "Where have they come from?"

"To the bridge, I say!" Orophin repeated, "If the tales are right, they are afraid to cross water!"

He ran, ignoring his mare's tortured whinny and the claws scraping over the forest soil. The earth seemed to shake beneath him as he threw himself onto the bridge. He fell, turned and stared directly into two burning, green eyes. Tiny flames escaped from the creature's nostrils as it hissed at the elf. Orophin shuddered, dazedly drawing an arrow. He had been right, a tiny voice in his mind said somewhere, they really were afraid of water.

"Rumil! Haldir!" Pain flared up in his right ankle as he lept to his feet. His first arrow hit the creature's eye and he stumbled backwards. An enraged whirlwind of claws and feet tried to get at him tried to reach him without having to enter the bridge. "To me! The bridge is safe!" His next arrow ended the wretched creature's life, another arrow attached itself to his bow, as if it had a will of its own. Panting, shivering he realeased arrow after arrow, aiming for the eyes, the throat and the scales he assumed to be the softest. One of the creatures was leaping towards Rumil. His heart missed a beat as he saw them go down, registered somehow that the creature had managed to bury both, Rumil and his horse under is dark grey weight. The earth shuddered under the impact, leaves were whirled into the air.

"No!" Orophin's arrow slit the throat of the creature that had almost reached Haldir as the marchwarden stopped, drew his knives and jumped to the ground. The creaure Haldir was facing now, was the only one left, but also the biggest of the pack. A split tongue uncurled from between its fangs, testing the air as if the sniff out the new prey. Blood-stained scales twisted, as the muscles beneath them tightened, prepared for attack.

Orophin did not even hear Haldir's cry as he released his last arrow, watching in horror as the beast crashed to the ground. Helplessly he stared at the scene before him. His and Rumil's horses lay motionless among the fallen bodies of the beast, their red blood mingling with the thick, black and steaming liquid that oozed from their attackers. He could see neither of his brothers. Sheer power of will held him upright as he limped from the bridge, scanning the area around him in panic. The wood was still thick but opened towards the bridge. At least he could be sure that no more of the creatures were laying in wait for them.

"Haldir!" A heavy weight lifted itself from his heart as he saw his brother lean against the creature he had just slain. Haldir's eyes were shadowed and his hair plastered to his head with black blood. "Where is Rumil?"

"I don't know," Haldir paused, releasing a tortured breath, "I haven't seen him since that thing jumped him."

Cold fear twisted around their hearts as they turned to where the carcass of one of the beast had crushed their brother's horse beneath it. Already darkening blood and broken bones were all they could see beneath the creature.

xxxGTLxxx

"And so it has begun..." Galadriel whispered, stepping back from the mirror. "The enemy is almost upon us..."

"Galadriel?" Celeborn gulped painfully, "Did I not ask you to stay away from the mirror? We do not know who controls it. You promised me to stay away from it."

"I cannot," Galadriel shook her head, "Can't you see? That's exactly what he wants. He told me to stay away from the miror, because he still has to learn how to use it and I cannot allow that to happen."

"Are you so sure?" Celeborn gently drew Galadriel away from the mirror, deep lines of worry etched into his brow. She did not even notice being pulled away.

"No." She whispered, leaning into the embrace Celeborn offered her, "But I can hope. It's the only thing I can do. Hope when all hope is lost."

Celeborn tightened his hold on her, gently rocking her, as one would rock a child. "Maybe we should sail to the west after all," he whispered against her hair, not even surprised that she didn't answer. She rarely had clear moments these days. And even her lucid moments were filled with visions of doom and death. It was almost as if she was becoming part of the mirror; as if the visions she could see in the silvery water were flooding her life and taking control of her thoughts. He did not know what to do anymore. Silently he led her back to their talans, wondering whether Orophin and his brothers were already close to Gondor. Hopefully they would reach the white city soon, he desperately needed some answers. And he had still not heard from the messenger he had sent to Imladris some weeks ago after Galadriel's first strange reaction to her mirror.

xxxGTLxxx

Elrohir's face was more than just serious as he sat down on his brother's desk, resolutely taking the stack of parchments from Elladan's hands.

"I am working, Elrohir," Elladan said, finally looking up at his brother. "That list has to be completed."

"You are working too much," Elrohir put the parchments aside, reaching for his brother's hands. Pain flashed through his eyes as Elladan drew back. "Please tell me what darkens your mood so much melamin (my love)," he said. " I can barely remember the last time I saw you smile."

"Are you not worried for our father?" Elladan leaned back into the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Have you never wondered how he is faring? Wounded and all alone in Mirkwood?"

Elrohir sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thranduil may not like the Noldor but he would never hurt another elf."

"But what if he conveniently forgot to tell his healers to treat Adar's (father's) wounds?" Elladan's eyes were clouded with worry.

"We have had this discussion before," Elrohir reminded his brother. "And we both know that you tend to worry too much."

"Aye, we do," Elladan smiled sadly. "But what about Bellmaethorion? There is always that strange tension between him and Erestor."

"Dan," this time Elladan allowed his brother's touch. "You are worrying again. An Bellmaethorion won't stay forever."

"Are you sure?" Elladan squeezed Elrohir's hand. "Just this morn Glorfindel told me that Bellmaethorion got engaged to Lindir."

"He told you what?"

"Bellmaethorion and Lindir are engaged."

"Sweet Elbereth," Elrohir shook his head. "If there really is some sort of history between Erestor and Bellmaethorion then this may turn out to be a real problem."

"Now you are the one who's worrying."

"Aye, I am." Elrohir grinned at his twin. "Are you willing to abandon work for today?"

"Elrohir raised his eyebrows. "And do what instead?"

"Oh," Elrohir smiled mischieviously. "I may have prepared something."

xxxGTLxxx

Dark wings scraped over cold stone and earth as the creature moved cautiously around in its tiny cell. The time was getting closer. It could feel it, could sense it in the uneasiness of its guardians, could smell it on the foul winds that sometimes reached the underground city. Soon.

Soon the time would come when it would hear and heed its true master's call. Soon it would be able to run the wildernerness and the woods again. And to hunt. Nostrils flared as its green eyes glimmered ominiously. It could almost taste the blood of its prey. But not quite yet. It had been patient for millenia, had waited for ages till the day would come when its master allowed to hunt down the prey he had been made for. It had been made to hunt the only creature on Arda that could destroy it. But it knew that it would not fail. It never had.

A soft growl crawled along the rocky walls, echoing hollowly in the almost emtpy caves. Spiders hurried from the unearthly sound. The hunt was near.

xxxGTLxxx

"Erestor?"

The black-haired advisor sighed, closing his eyes in denial as the worried voice once more drew his thoughts away from the work that was waiting to be done.

"Yes Glorfindel?" He did not even turn around and instead just stared at the stack of correspondance he should be sorting.

"Are you alright? You have been even more quiet today than you usually are." Glorfindel's warm hands settled on his shoulders. "Is it something I can help you with?"

"Nay melamin (my love)," the usually stern advisor smiled sadly. "You cannot. I am merely tired. My sleep has been restless lately."

"And will there ever be a problem I can help you with?"

Erestor froze at Glorfindel's bitter voice. "What are you hinting at?"

"I am hinting at the fact," Glorfindel walked around the table and glared down at Erestor. "That you are always depressed or worried by something and that no matter what you always claim that I cannot help you." He paused for a moment. "Nor anyone else. Why are you afraid of allowing others to support you, to care for you?" His azure eyes sought the advisor's gaze. "I love you Erestor, but sometimes all these mysteries are too much for me to bear. Why won't you share your troubles with me? You agreed to accept my suit, as far as you could and you claim to love me in some way. Am I not worthy of sharing your burdens as well as your joy?"

A heavy silence sufocated the room before Eresto finally answered. "Are you quite finished?"

"Erestor?" Glorfindel planted his hands firmly on the table. "Why won't you look at me? All I want is to be part of your life, to get to really know you. Why are you so uncomfortable with that?"

"I am not uncomfortable with that." The advisor's fingers interlaced themselves, tangled into a tense knot. "It is just that there are certain secrets in my past which I cannot share with you. I cannot bear talking about them. To anyone," he added almost as an afterthought.

"So this is what you will tell me whenever things get too personal for you?" The bitterness had found its way back into the seneschal's voice.

"Yes," Erestor whispered, still refusing to look at Glorfindel.

Only when the door had shut behind the blond elf Erestor finally lifted his gaze. His dark eyes were swimming with tears.

"I told you," he whispered sadly to the now-emtpy room. "I told you that it has to be this way, that I have to be alone. It is my curse to carry this burden alone." Erestor hung his head. He knew that his secrets were dark enough to drive every one away from him.

xxxGTLxxx

Erestor's eyes were still moist with tears as he onced more caressed the parchment in his fingers. It was time. He had always known, had always feared that this day might come and now, that he had to take the final step, he was almost unable to. He had always tried to distance himself from others, no matter how much they meant to him, but Glorfindel had managed to tear down this walls. And with what? With nothing else than love and kindness.

"Goodbye, my love..." Erestor whispered sadly, his voice almost breaking. At least he had been allowed to finally get to know love. It was more than he had ever hoped for. More than he could have dared to hope after he had been bound to Barak. For a short time he had almost been happy. An eerie quiet hung in the empty room as Erestor left his office, taking the quickest path to the Bruinen. There was only one place where he dared to do what he was planning. And he had to get there as soon as possible. Before someone stopped him.

xxxGTLxxx

"Where have you left Erestor?" Lindir asked as he saw Glorfindel standing alone in the hallmof fire. "You two seemed to have been joined by the hip for the last few days?"

"I could ask the same thing about you and Bellmaethorion." Glorfindel sighed, helplessly laying a hand onto the minstrel's arm. "I am at a loss, Lindir," he admitted finally. "Erestor has many issues, as you already know, and he refuses to talk to me."

"You have to give him time, meldir." Lindir patted the seneschal's hand, swiftly leading the bloind towards the door. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Glorfindel stopped. "I was waiting for Erestor."

"The meal is already over Glorfindel," Lindir pulled the blond another step forward. "Do you really think that Erestor will still come here? If he was hungry now he would go to the kitchen."

"You are right." Glorfindel frowned again. "Are we going there?"

"No." Lindir's silver hair caught the last red-golden rays of the setting sun as he shook his head. "We are going outside. We have to talk and I do not wish to be disturbed."

"Talk? But.. what about?"  
"Erestor."


End file.
